'Cos this world swallows souls. And when the blues unfold. It gets cold silence burns holes. You're going mad. Perhaps you always were. . But when things was good you just didn't care.
Sharp darts spitting masters. Spitting darts faster. Shut up I'm the driver, you're the passenger. I'll reign superior. The pressure blows the dial on your barometer.
Yeah, street level, oi, oi, yeah. That's it, right there. . 'Round there nothin' seems too big. At street level, same old thing, everyday. That's it, that's it, that's it.