Tonight I hit the street again
Hard concrete my closest friend
Cardboard box on which to lay my head
No pity for the walking dead

I know that I fucked up again
My aim is life for the wages of sin
No protection covers blown
Can't find content in a broken home

I've got nowhere to turn
I've got nowhere to turn right now

Nowhere to turn, nothing to hide
No dignity shame or sense of pride
Can't bring myself to turn your tricks
White collar junkies in need of a fix