I travel thru the city fully congested
The world is very hard to get digested
The motorcycle gets my thru no room to move
Rubbing elbows with the others on the rove
No one knows where this city lies
In the maps of rich americans no one ask why
treated successful when a motorcycle I buy
My father on his feet always he walked his beat
Walking thirty miles to work wich sat on eight street
I inherited it and now thirty min trip turned to ten
When my sons are old enough they will take over and become men
And they to will see this street
Down on the number eight

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Let God speak for the underground Psalm 49 16-17
16 Do not be overawed when a man grows rich when the splendor of his house increases
17 For he will take no thing with him when he dies, his splendor will not descend with him
18Though while he lived he counted himself blessed - and men praise you when you prosper-
19 He will join the generation of his fathers, who will never see the light of life

20 A man who has riches without understanding is like the beasts that perish