awake with ease, bangin' car doors are annoying me. The rain is coming down, started to lash, and I'm waiting for the glass to smash. Empty cans rattle
gestures. Nouveau wankers. There's a thousand empty stages waiting for their empty performances, A thousand empty faces waiting for their empty stances
to moan The middle of summer and I'm chilled to the bone Holes in my shoes where the rain comes in I'm sittin' on top of the world Walkin' in the shadows of empty
(gimme that!) School Craft wanna jingle your keys Whatchu 'bout to do? Bleed! [Proof] (3, 1, 3) Y'all don't run the streets, the streets run you
beer cans crunch Two ladies sit together on a park bench, feed the pigeons, and eat lunch And the window's always broken and the corner has a street
's runnin' dry, dry, dry Find a waiting room beneath the stars to make your bed You know London can make your brain stall The streets get cold and empty
words like conjunction A friend before I bring the end to your bodily functions When I speak I go deep, like when I'm stabbin' it You comin' up empty
know I'm damned Like no other man Well, I'm tired so sick, tired of breakin' down Won't be no one here to greet you when you come around And crossroads alleys and empty streets
says "We gotta fight the bloody battle to the very end" Mr. Beaverbrook says, "We gotta save our tin And all the garden gates And empty cans are gonna
bitch Coming over your shit Got my feet up on you sofas, man I mean a hostess for my open hand You coming home to dishes and empty soda cans I got
The wind is blowin' beer cans down a cold deserted street I feel as empty as those beer cans rollin' past my feet I can hear Chicago blues from an out
very bad for me Oh my dear I find myself A stitch short of a tapestry Patience on the verge of breakin' I'm kicking cans around the street Like a bad
The saloon is a bodega That leather vest is a low fleece And the sheriff in this boys is police We line up empty bean cans On the fence for target practice
burn from the skyline on top of the world Til there's nothing left of her Let's watch this city burn the world my body doused in ash With two empty cans
town, long cape and hat, People stood and stared then closed their doors, as he passed, He strolled the empty street, kids banged on tin cans, Then the
hair and predictable gestures. Nouveau wankers. There's a thousand empty stages waiting for their empty performances, A thousand empty faces waiting for their empty
I walk on decrepit bricks And kick sticks and rusty soda cans Simply for lack of better stimulation Motivation comes and goes like gas station patrons
Tonight I walk these city streets alone Kicking empty beer cans mumbling in a monotone And whatever madness the sidewalk show presents But I?ve got no