From the recording Of What Is Left


I drag myself through these dirty damp streets
As I try to remember the way
But the howling of horns and the screaming of brakes
Cause my mind to stray away

Air conditioners drips fall like cold rain
And roll off my unshaven face
I got a 50 dollar bill rolled up in my hand
And I’m off to put the devil in my veins

Well I walk these streets
As I try to escape whats left of me
As my eyes roll back
I lose a piece of what is left
Of what is left

I stumble through the shadows of overcast signs
Into cave like alley ways
Where I fight for the pleasure of WallStreet junkies
Who pay to see me bring pain

My knuckles adorn crowns made from scars
I’ve got dried blood caked under my nails
My clothes bare the wear of many hard nights
My eyes strain as daylight sets sail