“Concrete jungle where dreams are made, oh, there’s nothing you can’t do, now you’re in New York.”
Well, whatever you call it, I have serious doubts about what sort of dreams are made in these monster buildings. I suspect human isolation here. You can be desperately lonely here. Something looks to be utterly inhuman here. Working a 9-to-5 job could be devastating here. This is urban isolation. This is also New York.
So, what do you think?