Death in the City

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Brian Rogers

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Trouble cries out in the streets of the city.
Trouble - it begs for you.

You're a bum walkin' the streets on a cold December night in the city.
It's a shame….

You've been passed up many times by the men in their suits;
You're getting' fed up!

It's startin' to rain. (It's startin' to rain!)
Where the men in their suits when it's startin' to rain?

Idiots walk past you like you're not even there.
Well, how can that be?

You've been walkin' about a lifetime in the streets of the city -
Been slapped, been spit on, been kicked.

One of these days, you know, you about that far from snapping.
Someone's gonna get hurt!

How many times you been told,""You ain't worth a dime""?
How many times?

Trouble, it begs for you - here it comes crawlin',
And you know you're runnin' out of time.

But the money these people have in their pockets smells so good.
You can smell it, you can taste it, you can feel it!

Wouldn't take too much for you to take it -
Knock someone right in their head and take it.

Trouble cries out in the streets of the city.
Trouble - it screams for you!

You're a bum who's just been shot by a cop in the city,
An undercover cop.

You tried to pick the pocket of the Man; he shot you down.
He shot you fifteen times in the back.

It's a cold December night and there's death in the city.
Death and Trouble walk hand in hand,

And Trouble likes to prey on those that are weak.
It's a shame.

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