Yeah, yeah Psycho greetings from the street arena, to all the voices that go unheard, Post modern attitude straight from the gutters to the stage For those still fighting with no cause, I guess that no one knows, We're coming like a big crescendo Forfeit the Texture of a soul, the essence of a though We're growing like a teen libido The reason only to be made, as I will soon repay We're burning in our own inferno I can't avoid what's wrong I can't decide what's right, to move We're gathering the right momentum Back from the dead, when I recall your name Let the blind spot, devour the wicked Like when I get wasted Never mind if it's too late to wing it Streetwise through the day Inertia motivated youth, instead of politics our truth We cut them like a knife through butter Am I Self righteous all the time, I've got my own design Still singing my blues from the gutter Come play the suicidal game, god with a walking Frame I've enough loss to recover Come closer I won't mind, Come closer I wont bite As I will reach for my revolver