Streetside (Remastered)

From the corner is where it starts

Torn in half like a dollar bill

Happy mourners' window heart is

Bitter still

Truth's fictions stranger than any lie

Smooth convictions danger plan of

Twisted night

Does the pope shit in the wood?

He might be damned hoarding all his ill-got

Goods with Uncle Sam

Greener grass on the comfort side your

Easy choice

I'm leaning fast into the twisted night

One voice

At the bottom's where it ends

No between, catch life's riddles fates

Winds send

Depraviteam so low, it's been real

A total fiend, by his hand a lonely man

Looking for a streetside queen