Testo di Streetside

From the corner is where it starts Torn in half like a dollar bill Happy mourners' window heart is Bitter still Truth's fictions stranger than any lie Smooth convictions danger plan of Twisted night Does the pope shit in the wood? He might be damned hoarding all his ill-got Goods with Uncle Sam Greener grass on the comfort side your Easy choice I'm leaning fast into the twisted night One voice At the bottom's where it ends No between, catch life's riddles fates Winds send Depraviteam so low, it's been real A total fiend, by his hand a lonely man Looking for a streetside queen