A train to the big city
Where the pavements are of gold
A job, a life, a future
A cardboard box in no-man’s land.
Why do they come? Refugees
From their own poverty
Here to share in ours.
There’s a boy in oblivion over there
A needle in his arm
And **** in his hair;
Sold to the dream of another world
Not here.
Some walk the streets you know
Teenagers, offering their bodies
Hoping to save their souls;
Pawning dignity for a take-away,
**** in sin city
For the rich and gay.
There is no gold here, you fools
Under the same sky you sleep
On the same wish you weep
Crying yourselves to sleep
Counting lambs to the slaughter.
Aug 11, 2019
Aug 11, 2019 at 6:34 AM UTC
A train to the big city
Where the pavements are of gold
A job, a life, a future
A cardboard box in no-man’s land.
Why do they come? Refugees
From their own poverty
Here to share in ours.
There’s a boy in oblivion over there
A needle in his arm
And **** in his hair;
Sold to the dream of another world
Not here.
Some walk the streets you know
Teenagers, offering their bodies
Hoping to save their souls;
Pawning dignity for a take-away,
**** in sin city
For the rich and gay.
There is no gold here, you fools
Under the same sky you sleep
On the same wish you weep
Crying yourselves to sleep
Counting lambs to the slaughter.
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