Theres beauty on display in a city pushed away, hiding in brush deep in mush. A place for all the Harlots and Junkies to rest their heads.
The air here is so shitty, the pavement will take your dignity and scrape the knees. We are for sale we are the smell, fragrant while so aromatic but this fragrant air will never compare.
To what it is and what it was, I'll write a million letters to find the cause, you can write back to get the applause, while I sit all alone staring at the telephone.
Everything under the sun isn't meant for everyone, its mostly just shit, its all here to stare you down and make you want to quit, you may want to
go another round but the pavement makes an awful sound.
Like teeth and skulls, like Booze and Pills, I stay awake to know I'm alive and this night life indeed kills.

If it fizzes its not flat. If it speaks its alive.

Theres beauty on display in a bar at a lonely table for two, she stared me down, deep in thought and hiding in a pitcher, I wonder where she rests
her head at night?.
The air in here is so stagnated while so seated, we were all so wasted, while some of us were just on display for the world to be in dismay.
I've got a cancer infested heart and a mouth like a sailor, I cant be touched theres no beauty in here, I may be on display but I am deeply
in fear. You are here and I am there, write back turn me on, my backpacks broke I think I have a nose bleed. I wish this night would turn into another
plead, a lead, a deed to seal the worried.

You never understood my love for my Turntable... why do my own records
make me sad?

If you are beauty on display.. I guess you have never seen trouble.

If you are a city pushed away.. then start over and start the quarrel.

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