we are the wicked that walk these city streets by your light house, by the riverside.



we are the ones taken for the vandals and the thieves.

these filthy streets disgust you as they keep you on your knees.



the graffiti´s just as clear as the writing on the wall.



you want it

you got it

feel it through your veins



you want it

you got it

another dollar, another day



you want it

you got it

pray that it washes you away



you think an open mind can be so dangerous



poor hopeless sinner, too filled with guilt to see thoughts are so betrayed

pray that it washes away