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This city’s collective malaise Has ended my week in a daze The progress we’ve made Can seem so decayed But here, let me list out the ways…

Commuters are stabbed in the head Eighteen-year old girls show up dead It drives you to drink But not from the sink ‘Cause tap-water here still has lead The District is stabby in parts But we are the home for free arts! Though if it’s subversive And folks get coercive We bow to the whims of old farts

Amidst all my D.C. maligning There must be a silvery lining We’re up to 4Gs Have two big-ass trees So maybe I’ll lay off the whining