See myself in my Indy home.
See no lights in the night right now.
See myself wet with dripping rain.
I watch the bro's run in front of me.

Here we are now on the Eastside.
Get drunk on (Broad) Ripple and we get real high.
Garbage clutters the streets all day.
Homeboys are broke but still they pay.

Here we are at the sports teams' homes.
'Seco House and the RaCkAt Dome.
I watch the lights move across the Hall.
And our tax money paid fo' it all.

Here we are going past the Westside.
The Indy 500 makes us gloat with pride.
Race fans wish that they all could stay.
If it weren't for the taxes they'd pay
Where there's

Love and cornfields on the rural road.
Hi ya, Ma!

Here we are going past the Northside.
Fatcats drink champagne and eat quiche pie.
They party all night and have meetings all day.
Think they're exempt from the taxes we pay.

Here we are going past the Southside.
If they wear sheets better run and hide.
A bit of Heaven and a smidgen of Hell.
Living in this town makes us feel so swell.