Looking out a dirty old window
Down below the cars in the city go rushing by
I sit here alone and I wonder why
Friday night and everyone's moving
I can feel the heat but it's soothing, heading down
I search for the beat in this dirty town
Downtown the young ones are going
Downtown the young ones are growing
We're the kids in America (Whoa)
We're the kids in America (Whoa)
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Bright lights, the music gets faster
Look, boy, don't check on your watch, not another glance
I'm not leaving now, honey, not a chance
