The original version of this song appears on my 2004 album "Withstand the Whatnot."
The Manhattan skyline looked so off, like a hand with two fingers chopped off. I took for granted what I'd see each time I rode the D. My cousin said to me, "I'm glad you left NYC. I walk around so scared. I wish I could move down there!" I roamed the campus in a daze, jaw in my hand and eyebrows raised. The news looked like an action flick; it made me feel so sick. All my Desi friends got taunted to no end; they hid inside their dorms, awaiting the next Desert Storm. "Hey, Sean, ain't that where you were raised? Tell me your family's okay!" The phone lines were cluttered for three days, and paranoia had its way. My aunt worked in the Towers, and overslept two hours. She woke up to see her life spared right on TV. The city's wounded, but it's strong, left with no choice but to press on, or remain paralyzed with fright...some passengers just might. Every single block is overrun with cops, and I know exactly why I stare at the planes in the sky.