Born to industrial Grind In the shadow Decrepit urban sprawl Smokestacks rape the air
There are starving mouths to be fed Broken backs to be clothed And the streets to be pounded
The city is dying Like a wounded animal In need of mercy killing To be put out of it's misery
There are no politics for the desperate No jobs for the destitute And no hope for the downtrodden
The hunter he cannot provide The unemployed gatherer In a welfare wasteland Is broken and beaten
Belief in the eye of a needle Expression through violence And the irresistible force of decay
The city is dying Like a wounded animal In need of a mercy killing It's on its knees Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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