Darkness descending Night coming down in the city She walks the streets in search of fortune Down in a doorway, a man with no hope or pride He can’t go on, he can’t survive Out in the jungle called the city You’ll never make it on your own You got to have that
Silver and gold, see you grow old Turn with your back to the wall Silver and gold, out in the cold Run but there’s nowhere to go
He’s got no future, all just because of his past He’s got a gun, he’s tired of talking Hole in your pocket, role in your shoe Chip on your shoulder, you got that too You steal a ride, you’re tired of talking
Out in the cold, cold winter city You’ll never make it on your ownTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
