Chicago [1920's slang]
Left my dump, off to the [Gourmet Cafe]
Ankling it, no need for a hack
I'm a johnnie walker
Stopped a bit to jaw a little
With two wiseheads [Jess] and [Carrianne]
Before work
As we discuss how one of their coffee-and-donut doble
Keep klunking out on them
When I arrived
I poured me a cup of joe
Then took a powder
To find me an ameche
To arrange a get together for tonight
With my tight squeeze
I get back and drink the joe
Shortly afterwards I get jingle-brained
Then I threw a joe
I wake to find me in this heap
Someplace in a back of alley
And was being pulled out by three goons
I recognize [Daniel], [Bob] and [Dain]
Once they get me inside their hideout
I'm still jingle-brained
I realized I drunk a mickey finn
Now I'm in a jam
I recognize the butter and egg man
As the baddest gangster in upstate New York
His name is [Don Levy]
I also recognize the rest of the chopper squad
They are [Thom], [Josh] and also [Dan]
Who I use to drink out of the same bottle with
Don sends one of his hatchmen to get the seventh
Which he refers to [Engelhardt]
Each one of these numbers were well-heeled
With Chicago typewriters
Couple of them had dinchers in there kissers
Another asks for one of their ciggies
Mr. Levy who comes off as a nance
Tosses his deck to him and tells him to pipe down
Then he slaps my lid of my keyster
I know I'll be grilled about dust I know about
I can see by their get-ups
They have heavy sugar
The hard-boiled gimp tells me to level with him
He thinks I know alot the couple I'm working with
He mentions they're his biggest rival
Who don't want to play ball with him
All I am is a pearl diver in their restaurant
I don't know their potatoes of capers
I tell him he's tooting the wrong ringer
'All I do is wash dishes.'
They don't seem to be in that type of racketeering
Then two bins ankles in
Den tells them '[Terese] and [Carole] get in the back
Few minutes later two skirts arrive
This time he says
'Annie and Mary go in the back'
'Keep those other two company'
'This is business'
He tells me once he was left holding the bag
He never got his dib from my big cheese
My big cheese according to Don
Gave him the Chinese squeeze
He apparently became my big cheese's patsy
And refered him as a smooth
Need to bring this chin to a conclusion with me still intact
At this time, the gals in the back were giggling
Maybe this joint is wet with giggle water
Mr. Levy then says
'I'll have one of my goons sock your scnozzle, savvy? '
He wants me to rat out
If there were anyone planted on the inside of his operations
As if a pearl diver, like myself know anything
Then a dish with a pretty pan enters
Don then asks her
'Why do you gals always come when I'm doing business
He takes out his bank roll
Which seems to be at least a pai of Cs
Or possibly more
He places some lettuce in her hands
Then suggests she take the other gals out and dry up
She has these big bubs
Which i'd like to put my flippers on
Just then she puts her lips upon his
Then i realize she's his moll
Knowing I shouldn't get dizzy with this dame
I tell him don't get ing bing
Then confess ish kabibble
About neither his nor his rival's bee's wax
Well Jeepers Creepers
It's not getting duck soup
In convincing him I know nothing
I believe soon he'll be gashouse with me
Sure enough he put his paws upon my pipes
Which sent my pump to leap out of my pipes
From the heebie jeepies
He pours himself some yack yack bourbon
And then takes a snort of it
He says 'Says you'
'Now start singing, tell me who's the inside guy'
'Or I'll have one of my goons put the broderick on you'
I've remembered I've had sap poison upon my head before
He orders one of his goons to sock my peeper
I get dry gulched
It was so hard I know I have a goog
One of the fellas asks
If he should take me for a one way ride
Then I see Mr. Levy jerking a nod
Just then a Chicago pineapple flys through the window
I think I'll be out of this dump in a Chicago overcoat
One of the goons grabs the Chicago pineapple
Tosses it out of another window
They all begin to burn powder
I duck to stay out of the Chicago lightning
I see lead smashing into everything in sight
One of the fellas takes a shiv to me
Once the Chicago lightning ends
Mr. Levy and his goons are nowheres to be seen
I take to the air
Covering up the Harlem sunset
With a rag that was by the door
Today hasn't been much of a cat's pajamas
I get outside find myself in front of an old hash house
Across the street from [Caffe Lena]
Then I hear 'Grab a little air'
I look around and see buttons
Waving their buzzers at me in one hand
And the other their pieces
poem by R.K. Cowles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Edisoned [1920 slang]
Just when I thought today
Was beginning to become a frog's eyebrows
Preceding the gansters episode
Surviving the Chicago lightning
And getting out of that dump
It bacame a Chinese angle
When hearing 'Grab a little air'
I get sapped with some nutcrackers
Then a couple of bean shooters
Are forced to my head
I then find myself in a pair of nippers
I've been pinched
I am sent over to the club house
I made [Kevin] a git-box player
With his mouthpiece
Aiding him to dust out
Must have been playing his git-box
At one of those beer flats
Places where he can play to make spinach to live
I also made this ladyleggar [Michelle]
With a couple of oyster fruit strands around her neck
Possibly paying off protection money
To keep the heat away from her establishment
It appears these flatties sure enjoy
Shaking down these joints
I pipe a couple of flappers in silk stockings
I pipe one of their slips was revealing
Want to tell her
'Hey it's snowing down south'
I couldn't, I'm too far away
While leading me down the halls
The flattie informs me
That they have the goods on me
I should get on the blower
And call a good lip
He leads me to the Coney Island
I know I'll be edisoned
Few moments later they give me the third
If I don't sing they'll give me chin music
Each time there were two gumshoes respectivly
While in the Coney Island
The first two were [Matt] and [Tony]
Then [Rick] and [Mike]
The third set of gumshoes were [Pete] and [Drew]
Each of this six seems to be father time
Each one informs me I'll be heading to the big house
There's a call copper, who says
I was one one of the hoods
That came out of this jitney
And enter that dump where they spotted the goods
They lead me to a holding cell
Before they start tightening the screws
'The quicker you sing who's you're working for'
'The quicker we'll get a croaker for that Harlem sunset'
'We'll get the meat wagon for you'
As they lead me to the cell
I see in one cell a half cut
In another a John D
Couple of other cells were occupied by slimps I recognize
They'll hype you when you're not paying attention
The one next to me
I could tell has another tray of pork chops
After a chime or two I'm back in the Coney Island
I wonder what kind of rap They'll have me on
They tell me I better be a pigeon
Then it'll be a breeze
To blouse out of this dingus
The second set of gumshoes ankles in
One of them takes out their hope chest
Then hands the other a gasper
Then takes one out for himself
He lights them both
Before either one says anything to me
Usually I could cut myself a piece of cake
But with this Harlem sunset I have
I can't do it any longer
Suddenly one of them informs me
There were hot ice in the dump I came out of
He believes I was fencing them
And that I was one of those gansters
Who was pumping metal at them
He was telling me no more bunk
The third set of gumshoes relieves the second
One opens the icebox pulls out two pops
The label is fimiliar on both bottles
They were [Cooper's Cave Soda Company]
He hands the other one
Then pops off the top of his
Takes a snort from it
The other does the same to his bottle
One tells me he doesn't want to hear
'Don't know from nothing'
He doesn't want me to give them the runaround
I'll say the same to these gumshoes
The same thing I said to the goons at that dump
'You're tooting the wrong ringer'
The other says
'We think you know more than we originally thought'
The other replies 'And how'
They tell me I'll be getting more than a three spot
They have the goods to get me convicted
One tells the other
'The screws are going to love this fish in the pen'
Then the other reply
'They're going enjoy putting him the bing'
I know I don't deserve this bit
Then one tells me that he didn't peg me as a stupe
Then this broosky with a pencin thin mustache on his puss enters
He had these kippy dog kettles upon his dogs
He tells them both not to get in a lather
He must be the high pillow
They refer to him as [TR]
He tells the high pillow to get a slant of the hot ice
He gloms through them
He then says
'I have newshawks wanting the lowdown on this'
He then asks
'So what's this gink's monicker'
'Was he packing heat? '
They tell him my name
And informs him I wasn't packing
Then the high pillow informs the others
'He's a patsy, It's a frame'
'He's on the up and up, they're ringers'
He turns to me and says
'You can dust out of here'
I dust out
While ankling the street
I ponder if there'll be another Chinese angle some time today
I also ponder if I'm bait for these flatties
I'm now late to a get together
With couple of bun dusters [Troy] and [David]
poem by R.K. Cowles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take Me Back To Chicago
Take me back to chicago
Lay my soul to rest
Where my life was free and easy
Remember me at my best
Take me back to chicago
Where music was all I had
I tried to be good as I could
And sometimes that made me sad
Take me back to chicago, to chicago
Why dont you take me back
Take me back, take me back
To chicago
I still dream of the lake of peacefulness
The warm summer breeze
cause my life was so much simpler then
Street corners and tastee freeze
Take me back to chicago
cause hustlins not my style
L.a. was just a bit too hard
I wish I could be a child
Livin back in chicago, in chicago
Why dont you take me back
Take me back, take me back
To chicago
Take me back to chicago
Lay my soul to rest
Where my life was free and easy
Remember me at my best
Take me back to chicago
cause hustlins not my style
L.a. was just a bit too hard
I wish I could be a child
Livin back in chicago, in chicago
Why dont you take me back
Take me back, take me back
To chicago
Take me back, take me back....
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Only In Chicago
I went back
Yes I went back to find out
What we did wrong and
I went back
Yes I went back to see just
How we could feel so good
In Chicago
We seemed to have it all
It was real
It was love
I went back
And I sat by the lake
And looked at the stars
And oh I swear
I remember how much we laughed
And I loved you so
In Chicago
I know we had it all
It was real
It was love
Only in Chicago
Love is in the air
In Chicago
There's a magic there
In Chicago
Our Chicago
Baby, you and I
We tried to take it with us
But you can't go back
'Cause I went back to find out
What we did wrong and
Now I see
That it wasn't just you
It wasn't just me
It was Chicago
But I'm still in love with you
Only you
Only you
But only in Chicago
REPEAT CHORUS
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chicago Samba
I live in chicago
A very windy city
But tonight I will dance the Chicago samba
Once again
But when I dance the chicago blues
I sweat like crazy
And I feel like a kid again
But when I hear the chicago samba being played by the local musiciams
In the streets of chicago I get very excited
Because I know that their music cam be heard also from faraway
And bring me back memories of home
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chicago
Chicago, chicago, that toddlin town
Chicago, chicago, Ill show you around (youll stay around)
Bet your bottom dollar you lose the blues in
Chicago, chicago, the folks who visit
All wanna settle down. (all wanna settle down in my hometown)
On state street, that great street, I just wanna say,
They do things they dont do on broadway,
Youll have the time, the time of your life
Bring all your friends, all your kids and your wife to
Chicago, chicago my hometown. (hey now baby--)
(oooh baby)
Youll have the time, the time of your life
Bring all your friends, all your kids and your wife to
Chicago, chicago my hometown.
Oh, to chicago, chicago my hometown (yeah)
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Kind Of Town
My kind of town, Chicago is
My kind of town, Chicago is
My kind of people too
People who,smile at you
And each time I leave, Chicago is
Tugging my sleave, Chicago is
One town that won't let you down
It's my kind of town
My kind of town, Chicago is
My kind of town, Chicago is
My kind of razzmatazz
And it has, all that jazz
And each time I rome, Chicago is
Calling me home, Chicago is
One town that won't let you down
It's my kind of town
Chicago is
The Wrigley Building, Chicago is
The Union stock yard, Chicago is
One town that won't let you down
It's my
My kind of town
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chicago Streets
So good to be home
and out of the heat.
All those excess people reminded I'm alone
as I explored the busy Chicago streets.
So good to be mild
and not full of heat.
All those old buildings reminded I'm only a child
as I explored the ancient Chicago streets.
So good to be recognized
and not sweating in the heat.
All those dollars spent reminded me of the love I'm still denied.
as I explored the poor Chicago streets.
So good to be back from running away
and back from the heavy, humid heat.
All of the luggage and vacations reminded me problems come to stay.
as I left, for a long time, those Chicago streets.
poem by Delilah Miller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Southside Chicago Blues
Stumbled out of bed this mornin'
Don't know where I been.
Don't know what the haps last night
But it must have been a sin.
‘Cause today I got the lowdown blues,
The Southside Chicago mind-numbin' blues
I know my baby left me
That much I will confess.
Said I was a no-good worthless bum
And my life was in a mess.
Gave me the sorrowful blues,
The Southside Chicago pate-scramblin' blues.
Got out the frying pan
Made me some eggs and ham.
What a miserable life you lead
When you're livin' on the lam.
It's enough to give an old ex-con the lowlife blues
The Southside Chicago brain-dead blues.
Got to get my act together
Got to get my baby back
‘Cause I'm no good without her
And that's a goddurn fact.
Got to shake these dreadful blues,
These Southside Chicago drivin'-me-crazy blues.
Called her on the phone today
Begged her come on home
Promised I would shape up good
And never more to roam.
These awful blues are killin' me
These Southside Chicago ball-breakin' blues
She said Don't call me up no more
You're just a no-good cheatin' liar
I wouldn't even piss on you
If you was caught afire
I hope you keep your freakin' blues
Those Southside Chicago pot-smokin' blues.
Please don't give up on me
Try to show some pity
‘Cause without you life is empty
In this lonely windy city
While I suffer with these desolation blues
These Southside Chicago mind-numbin',
Pate-scramblin' brain-dead, drivin'-me-crazy,
Ball-breakin', pot-smokin' BLUES!
poem by George Hunter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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2008: Nothing To Talk About
She sat down in the booth with her drink and her number
Her lunch was cooking then they'd bring it to her
She looked so alone elderly with washed-out color of hair
Then he caught up and sat down across from her
Looked to be her son or about that age
So thin with a dirty pony tail counldn't sit still
Few words no smiles he looking left and right she down
Her tray came nothing for him he can't sit
Tells her he's going to look for a store
She tells him Lucky's is just across the street
Standing he looks out the windows
Like he doesn't know what direction to go
Then he's gone and back quickly bought nothing
Still can't sit asks if it's OK if he goes back outside
She looks so lonely no one to talk to
When he's here or when he must step outside
She know what he needs and can't find
He comes back in looking for her
She's not in the booth he can't wait
He's back outside by their car pacing around
She's out of the bathroom walking to her car's driver's side
He need a ride somewhere for something he can't talk about
I wouldn't think he'd find what he wants around here
But I may not know where to look or who to talk to
poem by Tom J. Mariani
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tough Streets Of Chicago
Tough streets of Chicago, you made me who I am.
Tough streets of Chicago, for me you had a plan.
You forced me to observe, what kids my age did not.
You taught me to look and see, always looking for a plot.
You taught me to react, and kept me on my toes.
You taught me to examine, the actions of my foes.
You forced me to react, in situations dire.
You made sure I would function, when I came under fire.
You made sure I was tough, made sure I'd understand,
the skills that I would need, when I joined uncle Sam.
Tough streets of Chicago, I almost went insane.
Tough streets of Chicago, you caused me so much pain.
You made me grow up fast, always dodging death.
You made me run from danger, could hardly catch my breath.
You took most of my friends, why, I'll never understand.
You made it possible to count, all my friends on one hand.
You took them in their teens, you took them very young.
You took them way before, to live they had begun.
Tough streets of Chicago, my tour is almost up.
Tough streets of Chicago, with your gangster posting up.
Tough streets of Chicago, can't get you off my mind.
Tough streets of Chicago, I miss those streets of mine.
Tough streets of Chicago...............................
poem by Rico Avila
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Little Girl and The Moon
once upon a time there was a little girl.
she liked to sit outside at night and talk to the moon.
everynight she kept the moon company.
one night she noticed the moon seemed tired, so
she climbed upon the roof, to tell the moon a secret.
the old moon smiled, so she reaches up
takes the moon in her hands and puts him in her pocket.
then she climbs down and goes into her house, up the stairs
to her room.there she takes the moon out and lets lay on
her bed.for hours they talked, told secrets and giggled.
then they heard people asking where the moon was.
outside was so dark, they couldnt find their ways.
the old moon says to the little girl
'maybe you should put me back into the sky,
so the people can find their way home at night'.
the little girl agreed.so she picks up the moon,
puts him back into her pocket.
she walks downstairs and goes outside.
it was very dark, but she wasnt afraid,
she had her friend the moon to help
show her the way.
she climbs back upon the roof, takes the moon out
of her pocket. holding him with both hands
she tells the moon'i love you,
we will still talk every night, but you must go back
give people light at nightime'.
she leans over kisses the moon goodnight.
then reaches back and tosses the moon
hard as she could back into the
nightime sky.
then the little girl and the moon hear, all the people
shouting and laughing.
after everything quietened down
the stars who were so happy the moon returned
all gave the moon kisses.
the little girl climbed down
with the moon lighting her way
went inside up to her room
took 1 last peek out
blowing the moon a big kiss goodnight.
poem by Sandy Nobody
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Finding Chicago
I wanted to write poetry like Carl Sandburg.
I wanted to write about big cities and small towns,
about open prairies and rivers in the sky.
I wanted to write about the people:
plumbers, politicians, poets,
but I’d never been east of Tucson.
So I quit my dead end job,
closed out my savings account, all 600 dollars,
and went to Chicago in search of a poem.
Chicago—City of the Big Shoulders, wrote Sandburg.
But I couldn’t find it.
I found Chicago falling down around an old black man
leaning on his battered bass case, the way you lean
on a friend when you’re in need. And Thomas Jefferson
Brown was a man in need, shoulders sagging under
the weight of six decades of back alley blues bars
and his thirst for blended whiskey.
Chicago—Player with Railroads and the Nation’s Freight Handler,
wrote Sandburg.
But I couldn’t find it.
I found Chicago in a rusted heap of railroad cars, twisted
tracks and 55 gallon drums where bums built their fires.
Factories and warehouses empty, workers sitting in nearby
bars drinking beer, expecting checks at the end of the week.
Chicago—Stormy, husky, brawling, wrote Sandburg.
But I couldn’t find it.
I found Chicago shimmering in the shadows of towering
concrete, steel and glass along 32nd Street, poets reading
in bookstores and coffee houses, children marching
to museums, women with slim hips in black silk gowns,
men in tuxedos and Italian shoes, dressed for the theater.
I wanted to write poetry like Sandburg.
But I couldn’t find his Chicago.
poem by Clifton King
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm from Chicago, my family started a chain of movie theaters in Chicago that were around for 70 years and then one of them became the head of Paramount and the other was the head of production at MGM and we all came out of Chicago.
quote by Bob Balaban
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jesus Just Left Chicago
(billy f. gibbons/joe michael hill/frank lee beard)jesus left chicago
And he headed down to new orleans
Jesus left chicago
And he headed down to new orleans
Hey hey
Workin from one end to the other
And all points in between
Took a drive through mississippi
Muddy water turned to wine
Took a drive through mississippi
Muddy water turned to wine
Hey hey
Went out to california
Through the points and through the pines
You might not see him in person
But hell see you just the same
Might not see him in person
But hell see you just the same
Hey hey
Dont have to worry about nothin
cuz takin care of business is his name
Jesus left chicago
And he headed down to new orleans
Jesus left chicago
And he headed down to new orleans
Hey hey
Workin from one end to the other
And all points in between
Thanks everyone!
This is a very cool room, I dont know how many of you
Were here last time, but...its good to be back
Whats that?
Sounds good, mike!! sounds great, mike!!!
Thank you man! thank you.. ok.... mike?
He likes the way it sounds!
I know!
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Satin and Grace
Here in Chicago I sit
in the sun of an Indian Summer
high on the Water Tower waiting,
chapped hands in a visor
over my eyes, hoping I see
you in that gown,
all satin and grace,
float like a feather
back to Chicago.
I don't care if you stop
by Confederate streams
to pick phallic rocks
on the way from Savannah
so long as you rise,
release all your hair,
take to the air
and float like a feather
on to Chicago
because this is the last time I'll sit
on the Water Tower waiting.
I'd rather go blind than see
you in that gown,
all satin and grace,
laugh like a loon,
turn in the air,
then float like a feather
back to Savannah.
poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chicago Stepper
I’m keeping it smooth, stepping so tight,
a Chicago Stepper’s in the house tonight.
It’s the end of the day, I’ve been patiently waiting.
Now I’m headed home to shower and change.
Looking at the guys in their fly gear, checking out
themselves in the mirror. I see you ladies in your
high stepping heels and you’re looking as good as you feel.
I don’t have to wait until Friday to find what I seek,
In Chi-town there’s a steppers set every day of the week.
I’m haunting the clubs looking for the crowd
to hit the floor, stepping proud.
All the heavy hitters out to shine,
if you want to step with them you gotta get in line.
I don’t even play and I can’t rest
as I’m taking notes from the best of the best.
I feel the beat of the music as I stay on count,
when it’s all done right there’s no coming down.
I’m keeping it smooth, footwork is tight,
‘cause Chicago steppers are out tonight.
poem by Cassandra Boyd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Back To Chicago
Written by dennis deyoung
Lead vocals by dennis deyoung
I was waiting all alone last night
When they cancelled all remaining flights
And I was suddenly aware, I was being so unfair
To turn and run from you again
So I called you on the telephone
And I said hey girl Im coming home
Cause I know my words were cruel
And that I acted like a fool
But Im gonna make it all up to you
And I dont care what people say
Cause Im gonna love you night & day
Oh baby if you still want me
Still need me, all you gotta do is let me
Walk right up to your door
Im makin my way back to chicago
Im makin my way come rain or shine
Im gonna find true love waiting for me
Im gonna make it all work out for good this time
Lets go walking by the beach tonight
And watch the sun come up on lake shore drive
Then Ill take you in my arms
And Ill keep you from all harm
Cause I know everything is gonna be alright
And I dont care what people say
Cause Im gonna love you night & day
Oh baby if you still want me
Still need me, all you gotta do is let me
Just walk right up to your door
Im makin my way back to chicago
Im makin my way come rain or shine
Im gonna find true love waiting for me
Im gonna make it all work out for good this time
Im makin my way back to chicago
Im makin my way come rain or shine
Im gonna find true love waiting for me
Im gonna make it all work out for good
Know its understood
Im coming home to stay this time
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Changing Of The Seasons
Oh the changing of the seasons it's a pretty thing to see
And though I find this balmy weather pleasin'
There's the wind come from tomorrow and I hear it callin' me
And I'm bound for the changing of the seasons
Oh it's blowin' in Chicago and it's snowin' up in Maine
And the Islands to the south are warm and sunny
And I've got to feel the earth shake and I gotta feel the rain
And I've got to know a taste of more than honey
So don't ask me where I'm goin' or how long I'm gonna be away
Don't make me give you all the hollow reasons
I'll think of you like summer and I might be back some day
When my heart miss the changing of the seasons
Oh it's blowin' in Chicago...
[ guitar ]
Oh it's nothing that you said and it ain't nothing that you done
And I wish I could explain you why I'm leavin'
But there's some men need the winter and there's some men need the sun
And there's some men need the changing of the seasons
Yeah it's blowin' in Chicago...
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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I'm impressed with the people from Chicago. Hollywood is hype, New York is talk, Chicago is work.
quote by Michael Douglas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Via Chicago
I dreamed about killing you again last night
And it felt alright to me
Dying on the banks of Embarcadero skies
I sat and watched you bleed
Buried you alive in a fireworks display
Raining down on me
You cold, hot blood ran away from me
To the sea
I painted my name on the back of a leaf
And I watched it float away
The hope I had in a notebook full of white, dry pages
Was all I tried to save
But the wind blew me back via Chicago
In the middle of the night
And all without fight
At the crush of veils and starlight
I know I'll make it back
One of these days and turn on your TV
To watch a man with a face like mine
Being chased down a busy street
When he gets caught, I wont get up
And I wont go to sleep
I'm coming home, I'm coming home
Via Chicago
Where the cups are cracked and hooked
Above the sink
They make me think
Crumbling ladder tears don't fall
They shine down your shoulders
And crawling is screw faster lash
I blow it with kisses
I rest my head on a pillowy star
And a cracked door moon
That says I havent gone too far
I'm coming home
I'm coming home
Via Chicago
Searching for a home
Searching for a home
Searching for a home
Via Chicago
I'm coming home
I'm coming home
song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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