South of Here

Cold hands cold heart don't warm the night
And this empty boulevard is bathed in cold pink light
Skeleton trees are a' whistlin' up in the wind
Metal bars over windows are keepin' me in

And the concrete men are pounding on these concrete paths
Is there blood in there? I dunno 'bout that
The dirt and the grime, the city in its prime
Corruption of wealth, livin' a life of crime

And I just have to go somewhere south of here ...

Lonely man is lonely livin' out on the streets
His heart ain't broken, but it's skippin' beats
Ain't nobody know if he's alive or dead
His blank eyes are staring straight out his empty head

Now the president won't listen to the village voice
Is he speaking tongues? Just static white noise
And back in the city I slobber like a doy-yoy-yoy

And I just have to go somewhere south of here ...



Credits
Writer(s): The Plastic Kind
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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