Home Is Where The Gutter Is

It’s living and breathing
Its on the nose
The stench and the filth
Scars on my foes
Many years have passed
Yet the nights move fast
Home is the street
Like it colder and bleak

Belong to no one
Deny the blame
The only way to keep it
Give it away

Relentless is the chill
Build a home from an old wet box
Leave a tip in the till

Be unafraid
Thrive down the drain

Its streaming blood
All down my face
Got stomped again
Die drunken bastard

Smash your face
This bottle’s good
Drank it deep
Die drunken bastard

Wounds are always fresh and so the scabs are never dry
Gutter is the place in which we choose to live our lives
Square inside a circle is the symbol in my eye
Home is where the gutter is and this is where I’ll die