The Rumjacks — Spit In The Street

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Oh I lie awake, I’m fit to break
And my head won’t leave me alone
I’ve to make my way through one more day
Strippin’ knuckle to the glistenin’ bone
Oh it’s a shit-fight! hell-right! down to the Boulevarde
Crackles in the blisterin’ heat
Where all the women they dress like high priced hookers
And the men all spit in the street

Oh I set out this mornin’ in steel capped shoes
I paid a hard earned dollar for all the bad news
All to sell my soul to these ignorant mongrels
They can’t stop me thinkin’ of you

Oh, I shove aside the human tide
And I struggle just to keep control
Through the lines o cabs, the angry stabs
Of the traffic all split my skull
Where the railway cops lay into the drunks
And the people never seem to see
And all the posh kids roll to the soul-less drivel

I’ve been wearin’ my dreams like tattered old jeans
All beer soaked & bloodied, the arse showin’ through
And if I come home tonight without a knife in the neck
Whats left of me belongs to you

Follow me & we can drown together in a smoky little room
Help carry me by the light of the angry moon
A pocketful o’ nails, the screechin’ rails
Air thick enough to make ya choke
Five days o’ grief for two relief
It doesn’t ever seem enough, I know
I need my white-hot fix o’ my teenage kicks
I gotta get back to me
Among the boys o’ Hades and the painted Ladies
Of this city’s where I’ve got to be