- published: 14 Sep 2013
- views: 1260
Allston is a neighborhood of Boston, Massachusetts, located in the western part of the city. It was named after the American painter and poet Washington Allston. It comprises the land covered by the zip code 02134. For the most part, Allston is administered collectively with the adjacent neighborhood of Brighton. The two are often referred to together as "Allston-Brighton". Boston Police Department District D-14 covers the Allston-Brighton area and a Boston Fire Department Allston station is located in Union Square which houses Ladder 14 & Engine 41.
Housing stock varies but largely consists of brick apartment buildings, especially on Commonwealth Avenue and the streets directly off it, while areas further down Brighton Avenue, close to Brighton, are largely dotted with wooden triple-deckers. Lower Allston, across the Massachusetts Turnpike from the rest of Allston, consists of mostly 1890-1920s single-family and multi-family Victorian homes.
The estimated population of Allston is 21,485, a decline of 1.42% from the 2000 Census. The median home cost is $317,000, a decline of 0.97% in the last year. The cost of living is 9.81% higher than the national average. The population density is 18,505/mi2, about 50% higher than the citywide average of 12,166. The median age is 29.2. 76.45% of residents list status as single.
There’s a sound deep inside
And it feels just like thunder
Like the rushing of white water
And it’s bursting in your head
There’s a fist around your heart
And it’s grip is getting tighter
And the sweat upon your face is running
Burning in your eyes
There’s no one there to help you now
This time you’re really on your own
There’s no one there to show you how
You have to find ... find your own way home
Caught in the spirit of the age
I rode along the wave
Accomplice to the avarice
The master and the slave
I played my role so easily
Wore my costumes well
And slapped and stabbed the backs of players
Playing the kiss-and-sell
And in this this life of give and take
You know it’s better to receive
And at the offer of an outstretched hand
I’d ask what can you do, what can you do for me
Ambition take me by the hand
And guide me through the shifting sands
Lead me to that promised land
Where everyman’s a king
Oh, feet of clay!
Don’t fail me now
There has to be a way some how
Two steps forward, three steps back
Break my heart, an art attack!
Show me everything I lack, things I lack ...
Seems to me, this seemed to be
The only way that finally
Tight-closed eyes would every see
Cracks begin to show
Swim up-stream, against the tide
Choke on faith and swallow pride
To find a new self, deep inside
That I don’t know
I don’t know!
Parsons and priests will look after your soul
But only you can exercise your self-control
And there are people who make history
While most read history books
Whilst some attract admiring glances
Most are scared to look
And if, just by some miracle, we see the light
I hope to God it’s bright enough
To highlight wrong from right
And will the signs for ‘up’ and ‘down’
Be clear enough to show?
And will we know the difference?
I don’t know!
I don’t know!
And now those days have gone,
Consigned to someone else’s memory
Embrace the changes still to come
Exploring every possibility
No shame the glory days have gone!
Farewell to broken dreams and chances missed
Farewell to shallow smiles and hollow hearts
And long forgotten promises
And now it dawned, I watched the sunrise
From the window of another day
I felt the shackles that had bound me,
Heavy, lighten, break and fade away
And if the future is an open road
I think I’ve learned to read the signs
And if the future is an open book
I’ve learned to read between the lines