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