Walking on a summer day down in Warland Square

When we came upon a begging flower with dreadlocks in her hair

A younger girl, cyanotic too soon

She shoots us back a look, keep that pity to yourself

Then she turns away so violently and fixes up again

Life-stealing chill digging into her


Why have you turned out this way?

Have all those cheap shots got you running so far away?


Because it owns, owns the rights to your soul

Numb like a mortician, funeral parlor cold

Somewhere beneath the rot lies a rose

Before the poison stream stole the rights to your soul

Rights to your soul, rights to your soul


Reluctantly I throw some cash and pity in her can

Knowing full well that the money is earmarked for a bad plan

Admit kindness to a fault, I guess

She half smiles, half cries, catch that pity in my eyes

Then she looks away within a hurry for her begging cry

Christ, she looks on her last leg


Why have you turned out this way?

Have all those hot shots got you running so far away?


Because it owns, owns the rights to your soul

Numb like a mortician, funeral parlor cold

Somewhere beneath the rot lies a rose

Before the poison stream stole the rights to your soul

Rights to your soul, rights to your soul


How do you concede young life to a dragon?

How about kicking your demons loose for a ride on the wagon?


Why have you turned out this way?

Have all those hot shots got you running so far away?


Because it owns, owns the rights to your soul

Numb like a mortician, funeral parlor cold

Somewhere beneath the rot lies a rose

Before the poison stream stole the rights to your soul

Rights to your soul, rights to your soul


Owns, owns the rights to your soul

Numb like a mortician, funeral parlor cold

I remember such a little rose

Before the heroin stole the rights to your soul

Rights to your soul, rights to your soul