Well, my city don't exist
It's on a map you might've missed
but all the streets are freshly paved
But with the buildings burning down
the night is squirming with the sounds
of people crying to be saved
We're built on ghosts
We are built on rotting posts
the foundation's giving way
to a new day
We're built on graves
on crooked games and masquerades
Come on, baby, it's the golden age.
Well, my city don't exist
It's on a map you might've missed
but all the streets are paved with gold
But with the buildings burning down
the night is squirming with the sounds
of people bought and people sold
We're built on ghosts
We are built on rotting posts
the foundation's giving way
to a new day
We're built on graves
on crooked games and masquerades
Come on, baby, it's the golden age.
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