lyrics
this city has four legs
this city has its own mind
four legs and a jaw that grinds
the man down to what's left when you find him
bars on every corner, mothers and mourners
fighters and riders along with rusty tires
bullet holes in siding, dead bolts and hiding
broken glass, working class and homes shelled by fire
and all the shoes tied tight and high above our heads on telephone wires
don't let the city streets keep you inside all year
no sense in being afraid of the ones who were made with numbered hairs on each precious head
credits
from
Oldermost, track
released 20 November 2010
lyrics by bradford bucknum
music by oldermost
license
all rights reserved
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