Текст: Two Gallants. What The Toll Tells. 16th St. Dozens.

Cops and junkies hurl their sophistries. A.d.h.d. hail cacophony. Try not hard to shake this off of me. Howl you fools, its all for naught. But on 16th st. We wait for holiness. Vaccinate ourselves from loneliness. Masquerade through homes of homelessness. And oh i hope we?ll not get over this. Hear the now is now upon us. Everyone must share this onus. Ancients have no more to lone us. All our debts unpaid. On 16th st. We rise in numbers once a name now just a number. Scream for all the unsaid, unheard prisoners on parade. Sweet dolores mi mamasita. Seems each day i still remeetya. Disculpame mi pobrecita. Guess i left things incomplete. But all this noise will soon be over so drink until you?re halfway sober. Red rover?s already over but the last thing that we need is closure. Now it?s time for us to swallow all this loss until tomorrow. Payback all the time we?ve borrowed. Anger well displayed. On 16th st. We fall in numbers no one questions. No one wonders. Scream for all the unsaid, unheard hoodlums on parade.