Where are all the pretty places? Where did they grow? Torn down by all the lonely faces for something to hold Flat and static, paved in progress names What will all our little children say? When the only place to play is in the dirty rain Poison river, muddy water, a dead man's floor Plastic people stacked in towers with nowhere to go Sun will fill with ice and concrete grey Cold and dark go on for days and days The only thing that remains is the dirty rain Nothing's really ever gold anymore Nothing shines like it did before Nothing's really ever gold anymore Nothing shines like it did before Flat and static, paved in progress names What will all our little children say? When the only place to play is in the dirty rain The dirty rain