I must have left my heart in Buffalo beating between the rusty gears of the killing machine and I'll wear you out for a buck or two did I made your day tasteless memories scraped into concrete ignite this city a ruin of apathy one light for every heart one rat for every scar it's 10:51 you better get your shovel heartless souls where do we go from here this time I'm all ears but I'm not listening inspiration or adaptation of early 20th century French pornography plagiarism is planting seeds this is not another cliché tragedy when the body abandons me obscenity exaggerates love at 72 inches of revolution and 1051 a head you better get your shovel and those who dig can you dig it's nice to know that I've touched the lives of others by wasting their time my heart's too big for this city where everyone is strapped or strapping what's the word for wishful thinking there's a word for wishful thinking I must have left my heart in Buffalo and my brains between your legs