Yeah, yeah Psycho greetings from the street arena, to all the voices that go unheard,
Post modern attitude straight from the gutters to the stage


For those still fighting with no cause, I guess that no one knows,
We're coming like a big crescendo
Forfeit the Texture of a soul, the essence of a though

We're growing like a teen libido
The reason only to be made, as I will soon repay
We're burning in our own inferno

I can't avoid what's wrong I can't decide what's right, to move
We're gathering the right momentum
Back from the dead, when I recall your name


Let the blind spot, devour the wicked
Like when I get wasted

Never mind if it's too late to wing it
Streetwise through the day
Inertia motivated youth, instead of politics our truth

We cut them like a knife through butter
Am I Self righteous all the time, I've got my own design
Still singing my blues from the gutter

Come play the suicidal game, god with a walking Frame
I've enough loss to recover
Come closer I won't mind, Come closer I wont bite

As I will reach for my revolver