Текст песни Sick City

I woke up in a cold sweat Wriggling and writhing... a man in the net Take the bit in the teeth... put the gun in the hand There ain't no judge this is no man's land It's Sick City Sick City Sick City's got seven sins No place where the conscience wins Misery may be mother One beggar can beg from another Strike with the sword Stricken with the scabbard You won't get far climbing the ladder Gotta take care of necessities Caring for people's a luxury Make sure you get what you need So you threaten with a knife to feed your greed Sick City's got seven sins No place where the conscience wins Sick City's got a sacred secret Save your breath to cool your broth Sick city... swollen land Grease on the palm or a broken arm Sick City has a special flavour A brand new way to love thy neighbour Sick City's got a sacred secret Your guts get full don't drag your legs In Sick City you're better off dead Take the fat with the lean or a hole in your head