There’s gotta be a better place than bourbon street on a Friday She don’t want hand grenades or hurricanes Got had by a shoe shiner just to hear his speech Now every time they ask her where she got those shoes She says “I got them right here on my feet” In a dive bar off the boulevard down an alleyway She smiles and I can tell this is what she’s talking about And the brothers gathered round the jukebox she said “I’m just pa**ing through” Put a quarter in and played her song The whole damn room approved They like her style and I do too You don’t want fake rain while you’re sleeping You don’t want the praise when you lose Beneath the streets, between the houses All you want is a little truth East side of the village up in New York City Late nights running round trying to find the underground Hidden bars and speakeasies – convinced there’s another world Of things we’re missing out on And all you want is to unfurl to the wind Blow the roof off this whole town And I want to say I admire how you go Seeing all the best in everyone Between the houses and the billboard signs All we want is a little truth