Driver: Parallel Lines

New York in ’78 was the coolest place on the planet. Everyone was either finding themselves, or getting laid, including me. I was new to the Big Apple, just a country boy looking to make good. But a few weeks, and it felt like home. From New Jersey to Queens, from the Bronx down to Battery this was my patch, my backyard. 28 years later and the city sparkled like new on the surface. Underneath, the filth was still there, and I had vengeance crawling inside me.