So what are you expecting now?
Should I be sarcastic, do another round of sardonic prose?
Skewering everything sans sincerity, thinking it makes me look smart?
Does it make me smart if I pretend to hate everything?
Well, let's find out
What if I told the truth for once, and sang a song about love?
The love I have for this city and the towers grasping all above
And the homeless that litter the street through no fault of their own
And the scum that walk past them on the way to work from home
But trust me man I'm different, I always pout and shake my head
And in my dreams I'll share my home with the unfortunate and unfed
But unlike all those other selfish fucks I got bills and rent to pay
So my conscience is clear as I put another Mocha on Afterpay
Does it tire you out when realise you have to listen to me sneer?
Does it make you anxious to know how I articulate all your fears?
When I project my insecurities into a digital void unseen
Before I drop to my knees and beg you throw me another copper for my dreams
So I ask a simple question: How do you gentrify a town?
Is it money, culture, art or just letting history slowly drown?
Is it losing my life savings at yet another bubble tea pop-up?
Or is it sending all the jobs offshore to try and save a buck?
And as I ride the free tram zone desperately searching for the way
I spy yet another used record store having a final closing down sale
Entering I lock eyes with the clerk who ushers me inside
As a needle scraps wax to play a digital remaster of Pearl Jam's 'Alive'