Hey kid, listen close I got somethin' good,
Bloodshot bleary eyes pierce the boy's weakness wise
For nothin', free hear? I'll give you some of this'
You know where I am.

Eyes squeezed shut, hear the sight,
Grits his teeth and presses tight,
And the plunger forces in,
A liquid shot of should have been.

In the gutter turnin' tricks - five a pop,
Jitterin eyes like a child's top,
Desperation tastes like the sickly sweat
On the grit-smeared forehead of the breathing dead.

So what's the price for a dime,
Of broken promise, liquid prime,
Not one penny, not a cent,
For the first - the soul's the rent.

Hear me clear and see me loud,
Message mine's not word, but feeling, endowed
With the pain of grandeur glimpsed,
Glory given, then dispensed.

So lick your lips and tell me this,
Does it taste like the world don't care?
Cause' happiness and hell entwine
If your vision tastes like air.