The Murder City Devils Press Gang
Pecked by the seagulls Hanging from the gallows Swinging in the breeze Dripping something on the streets I can see him from my window they can see him from the water Just a victim of the press gang I knew him when he was breathing He was a good man, he was a young man He was like you, he was like me It could ve been me It could ve been me Twisting in the breeze (cut him down, cut him down) Left for the children on the streets (cut him down, cut him down) On the streets br, br,
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