In the city there is something to see   In the city there is nothing to breathe   I'm going about my business   I'm wondering what I'm missing      And on my way home, I hid in my coat   I wrote my name on the city wall   Being famous      In the city there is a park bench you can sleep out on   The city there is a trash can you can eat out of   I'm going about my business   I'm wondering what I'm missing      And on my way home a cop said "No!"   I said, "There is a man with a stick and a gun in his hand"   Being famous      Red man in the city   Poor man in the city   Black man in the city   Fat man in the city   Red man, black man   Fat man, blue man   I don't know the rest of the words   'Cause I made it up just for you, oh...   Just for you