Saturday, 31 December 2011
In every city and every town
There are some places out of bounds
Down "hard luck" street and "beggars row"
My friends, this really is not the place to go.
You’re on the slippery slope to nowhere
And sliding forever deep, falling ever quicker
Until Skid Row your surly meet.
Your bottom of the pecking pile, the dross of human kind
The life of wealth and comfort, you left them far behind
Drinking meths and cider brews, an early death is for you
Now Skid Row will always welcome you, the powerful and
If by chance you cross "hard times way", without the
help you seek
Skid Row is unforgiving and will make you pay the costs
Your wife and kids, your dog your home
In Skid Row, all you had is LOST.
Peter "buddy, can you spare a dime" Wicks