I drove the lanes of Lower Ward
Where every fare was just a board
I know the grit and street-side grime
The long haul through a wasted time
Now I stand on a plated floor
A fancy view, a golden door
The Citadel is bright and wide
With nowhere left for souls to hide
Look at the lights of the silver spire
Burning like fuel in a cosmic fire
The wards are spinning in a velvet glow
The high life humming while the low ones go
The traffic flows in a river stream
A polished chrome and plastic dream
I see the hubs and the docking bay
Where all the heavy hitters play
Look at the lights of the silver spire
Burning like fuel in a cosmic fire
The wards are spinning in a velvet glow
The high life humming while the low ones go
The glass is cold against my hand
A stranger in a foreign land
I miss the smog and the greasy heat
The honest noise of a crowded street
The Presidium is a frozen pearl
A different kind of spinning whirl
They keep the dirt and the grime away
While we just watch from the bay
The meter runs but the road is gone
I wait here for a metal dawn
A driver's eye sees the hidden cost
Of every single orbit lost
Look at the lights of the silver spire
Burning like fuel in a cosmic fire
The wards are spinning in a velvet glow
The high life humming while the low ones go
Just a view from the deck
Just a view from the deck
End of the line.
