Tourniquet

And my blood runs into the Gowanus Canal

Where it sinks to the bottom

And hurts like hell

The Prospectors still search for highs in the heights

'Til their first bloody nose which they laugh off despite

How it seems that whatever gets left in a bar

Just becomes part of Brooklyn

And here we are

Oh here we are

And these trains held in Chambers are ready to blow

All the way back to Brooklyn

And here we go

Oh here we go

And this tourniquet turns even tighter until

Traffic comes to a standstill

We come to a standstill

I come to a standstill

Oh here we are