dark is the night, cold is the ground.

 Smoke rises from the streets

Like the devil for his satisfaction

Where all the smiles you meet cheat

And the words are sinful distractions

 

The alley rats play rusty horns

That echo cold blue brick darkness

In restless souls these nights are born

While the sewers weep, baptizing the heartless

 

From the streets prayers come most

For the faher, son and Holy Ghost

The word is Mary overdosed

By the light of a

trash can fire

 

She sat on the ramp of the freeway most days

Faithfully waiting for here salvation

Cardboard sigh reads "anything that pays"

This is the landscape of our nation

 

The aftermath of powerful greedy cowards

Who pay politician’s for games wiith no losses

For bankers on the top of stone black towers

And preachers in shadows of high golden crosses

 

And they watch…

While from the streets the prayers come most

For the father, son and Holy Ghost

Last night a starving Mary overdosed

By the light of a

trash can fire.