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Like a wrecking ball we rolled through this town |
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Into the teeth of it's contented smile |
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Like a snake we crawled across it's feet |
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They witched in sleep |
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The city dreamed two drunk men walking |
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We were hungry and the trees were bare |
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We spat on their roots until our mouths were dry |
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If it promised to end this nameless emptiness |
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It went in our mouths |
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The city dreamed of two fire eaters |
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But if not for just one word from a friend |
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By chance or by design |
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I would have broken my neck |
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On some dark stone steps |
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Singing "any town , is a good place to die" |
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Afraid of the kiss of getting burned on the lips |
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I lean just close enough to light my cigarette |
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I climb the steps with the key to my room |
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My hands are warm |
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My pockets are full of stolen fire |
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Like a fisT he arcs through ancient dust |
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Into the jaws of the beast the chrome and the rust |
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Like a Saint who turned his back on one kind word |
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He seldom sleeps |
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The radio, plays a drunk man walking |
