Bailey packed up at dawn, Left the swamp fog behind. Traded cypress and cattails For streetlights and neon signs. Thought the city was silver, Promised diamonds and gold. But every smile she saw Was bought, bartered, or sold. Big city faces, Painted and cold. Two words for kindness, A thousand for “no.” Every handshake’s hollow, Every word’s a show. Bailey’s heart is aching, She already wants to go home. The streets don’t sleep, But they sure don’t care. Nobody tips their hat, Nobody says a prayer. She learned quick, Every promise is a bet. Every “friend” got a secret, Every smile hides a threat. Big city faces, Painted and cold. Two words for kindness, A thousand for “no.” Every laugh is borrowed, Every hug’s for show. Bailey dreams of the bayou, It’s time to go home. She misses the frogs, The soft sway of the pines, People who mean what they say And don’t waste your time. She’d trade every skyline, Every bar full of lies, For a quiet swamp sunset And some honest fireflies. Bailey’s packin’ her bags, City lights fade to gray. The swamp ain’t perfect, But at least it ain’t fake… Mmm… Big City Blues…
