| The skies are full of dirt and gray
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| The city’s kids come out to play
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| Running in the broken glass
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| From old deserted windows
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| Dollar winos fill the streets
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| The poolroom music’s soulful beat
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| Engulfs the gray and dirty air
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| In inner city limits
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| Children run in hopeless heat
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| Long the dirty junkie streets
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| Women sell themselves to men
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| Through ruthless mediators
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| The sidewalk cracks are deep and wide
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| The children kneel to look inside
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| For pennies, maybe nickels
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| Dropped in passing
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| They live their lives like others past
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| The winos drink, the pimps sell ass
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| Little girls ten years ago
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| Are older now by twenty
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| Social change is still just talk
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| The things you see in urban walks
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| Should make you sick and lose your lunch
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| Inside your high-rise diners
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| Make the laws, you own the land
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| You hold them down when you can’t stand
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| One of these day’s you’ll get yours aplenty
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| One of these day’s you’ll get yours aplenty
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| One of these day’s you’ll get yours aplenty |