With a bad band somewhere inland on an island
in the valley of the ******
we were ****** or we were canned and our lives
trickled away in the hourglass dripping sand.
I never felt so much alone than with
a cardboard box which I called home and though
the band was many, there was no sense of fraternity,
I stole from them,they stole from me,
the never ending emnity.

This life gives no indemnity,no clause that says,you will go free,
you have to fight
you get uptight
you want to ****** one more night and then the daylight slams you up
against the red brick wall,
you fall back ******
rammed inside the valley
another trip into crack alley
somewhere inland
on an island
waving
at passing ships.