It's hard not to surrender to the bold and comely words
What sway the bloody minded
What hang above the graceless herd.
It's hard not to surrender,
but I will dance down through the alleyways with one foot in the gutter.
Take the city as a sister, the nighttime as a lover.

It's hard not to surrender To the bold and comely words What sway the bloody minded What hang above the graceless herd It's hard not to surrender But I will dance down through the alleyways Wi

The architects are choking out another hollow tooth
And the rooms have all been rented from the gutter to the roof
In the heart of a city desire finds its fuel
You go out looking for trouble, sooner or later and the trouble finds you

Here the men walk like pigeons
And the w

I was not up for saying grace Hung up before a loving face A table set with spinning plates Only our age between us You remember in the living There was no real forgiving In every age a common

I was not up for saying grace
Hung up before our love had faced
A table set with spinning plates
Only our age between us

You remember in the living
There was no real forgiving.
In every age a common bent
To wonder on our innocence

I was that hungry little one<

At the out-city dance hall,
where the wild ones lead the fire-night parade...
If you're looking for affection,
best be careful where you lay your name.

'Cause they'll pin your renegade heart to the wall
and leave you there to hang.

Last night, at some Scarborough disc

Years from now, they will make water from The reservoirs of our idiot tempers Soon enough, work and love will make a man out of you Through and through Your gentleman father would pray for a d

Now, architect Now, archeologist Now a man whose hand's in the past Somebody's made to face the changes Somebody's built to last What do you know Still living so young Tomorrow's no burden Tim

Oh, young lions This is your kingdom Every beast has its poison Every line has its victim Choose your crime Pour the ashes out the window Empty mickey by the river Shining like a broken halo

Curse the corpses, call in the futurists This is the ballad of the young offenders Leave no manifestos, save graffiti in the train yard These legs were made to run When the dares pick a victim