Spit In The Street

(album: Gangs Of New Holland - 2010)

Oh I lie awake, I'm fit to break
And my head won't leave me alone
I've to make my way through one more day
Stripping knuckle to the glistening bone

Oh it's a shit-fight hell-right down to the Boulevarde
Crackles in the blistering heat
Where all the women they dress like high priced hookers
And the men all spit in the street

Oh I set out this morning in steel capped shoes
I paid a hard earned dollar for all the bad news
All to sell my soul to these ignorant mongrels
They can't stop me thinking of you

Oh, I shove aside the human tide
And I struggle just to keep control
Through the lines o cabs, the angry stabs
Of the traffic all split my skull

Where the railway cops lay into the drunks
And the people never seem to see
And all the posh kids roll to the soul-less drivel
Of a pissy little MP3

I've been wearing my dreams like tattered old jeans
All beer soaked and bloodied, the arse showing through
And if I come home tonight without a knife in the neck
What's left of me belongs to you

Follow me
And we can drown together in a smoky little room
Help carry me
By the light of the angry moon

A pocketful o' nails, the screeching rails
Air thick enough to make ya choke
Five days o' grief for two relief
It doesn't ever seem enough, I know

I need my white-hot fix o' my teenage kicks
I gotta get back to me
Among the boys o' Hades and the painted Ladies
Of this city's where I've got to be