Sick City

I woke up in a cold sweatWriggling and writhing... a man in the netTake the bit in the teeth... put the gun in the handThere ain't no judge this is no man's landIt's Sick CitySick CitySick City's got seven sinsNo place where the conscience winsMisery may be motherOne beggar can beg from anotherStrike with the swordStricken with the scabbardYou won't get far climbing the ladderGotta take care of necessitiesCaring for people's a luxuryMake sure you get what you needSo you threaten with a knife to feed your greedSick City's got seven sinsNo place where the conscience winsSick City's got a sacred secretSave your breath to cool your brothSick city... swollen landGrease on the palm or a broken armSick City has a special flavourA brand new way to love thy neighbourSick City's got a sacred secretYour guts get full don't drag your legsIn Sick City you're better off deadTake the fat with the lean or a hole in your head