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Born to industrial Grind

In the shadow

Decrepit urban sprawl

Smokestacks rape the air

There are starving mouths to be fed

Broken backs to be clothed

And the streets to be pounded

The city is dying

Like a wounded animal

In need of mercy killing

To be put out of it's misery

There are no politics for the desperate

No jobs for the destitute

And no hope for the downtrodden

The hunter he cannot provide

The unemployed gatherer

In a welfare wasteland

Is broken and beaten

Belief in the eye of a needle

Expression through violence

And the irresistible force of decay

The city is dying

Like a wounded animal

In need of a mercy killing

It's on its knees