As I walk down these lonely streets again I learn that nothing is holy except the rest of the world And the church where they gather to worship the undead In a place that gives all hope but hope is not real Always remember that and take for granted Everything you can this is your only lonely life In my own windy city I would take the hearts of all the pretty People who have no soul just an empty hole Where they bleed from their chest Now all these tall buildings fall They surround our country with security If it takes four years to bring down our fears Our government will give three cheers This is my own windy city.