The neon haze of city lights
The tribal sound of marching feet
The tired and homeless roam the streets
Cuts through the gloom on cold dark nights
The sirens wail the engines roar
Lies cold and helpless on the ground
A shadowed man just glances around
A victim of life's mindless toil
If they could move
Bear witness on the nights The window dummies silent stare
What it would proved
To see them all take flight The tribal sound of marching feet
Cuts through the gloom on cold dark nights
The neon haze of city lights
The tired and homeless roam the streets
The people air their views
The walls shout loud with angry words
The poor can scream but noThe concrete jungle sings the blues.
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