The swiftest fingers play for money
Best are tangled up in minds
The sweetest sisters now come down to connin
and they buy no truth of any kind

You know senile mothers hang around woo their spittin' sons
Hunky husbands sell their pounds of flesh
You know the most sung song is sixteens tons
and only trash is good for cash

Well, send me y'r greetings, sweet sweet love
Commend me if I need to be to heaven above
Your so called friends honey just drain y'r brain
To be a star in conversation

You got clap trap rows on Lover's Lane
Only meant to keep you on probation
Shoot y'r shit honey & shoot y'r stinkin' lip
You wont find a way to score a solid hit

I said try everything now to prove y'r hip
You only gonna end up the final stupid flip
Greetings, sweet sweet love
Commend me if I need to be to heaven above

But leave me, please leave me
With the scum & the junkies
On skid row, where all names are delusive
Skid row, where pain is exclusive
Skid Row

Skid row, where all names are delusive
Skid row, pain is exclusive
Skid Row

On skid row, where all names are delusive
Skid row, pain is exclusive
Skid Row