text: Late afternoon, another day is nearly done
  A darker grey is breaking through a lighter one
  A thousand sharpened elbows in the underground
  That hollow hurried sound, feet on polished floor
  And in the dollar store, the clerk is closing up
  And counting loonies trying not to say
  I hate Winnipeg
  The driver checks the mirror seven minutes late
  The crowded riders restlessness enunciates
  The Guess Who sucked, the Jets were lousy anyway
  The same route everyday
  And in the turning lane
  Someones stalled again
  Hes talking to himself
  And hears the price of gas repeat his phrase
  I hate Winnipeg
  And up above us all
  Leaning into sky
  Our golden business boy
  Will watch the North End die
  And sing, “I love this town”
  Then let his arcing wrecking ball proclaim
  I hate Winnipeg