Sing this with great gusto to the tune of “Home on the Range”:
Oh, give me a home
where the homies do roam,
where the low-end renters all stay,
where no one hires guards
or has great big back yards,
and the white-flight snobs stay away.Home in the city,
where Chinese and Spanish ring free,
where you don’t have to drive
to hear genuine jive,
and you don’t have to act like T.V.Oh, find me a street
where house and shop meet,
where a panhandler strums a guitar,
built for strolls in the rain,
not for big franchise chains,
nor for people who can’t leave their car.Home in the city,
where Chinese and Spanish ring free,
where you don’t have to drive
to hear genuine jive,
and you don’t have to act like T.V.
Yep…I wrote it. :)
