we are the wicked that walk these city streets by your light house, by the riverside.
we are the ones taken for the vandals and the thieves. these filthy streets disgust you as they keep you on your knees.
the graffiti´s just as clear as the writing on the wall.
you want it you got it feel it through your veins
you want it you got it another dollar, another day
you want it you got it pray that it washes you away
you think an open mind can be so dangerous
poor hopeless sinner, too filled with guilt to see thoughts are so betrayed pray that it washes away