Rancid

every city got an artery where the blood
breaks down an avenue or a boulevard
and a boy who wears a crown
indigant live styles mplies simply lack of means
dogmatical authoritarians dictate the cities remains
a promise to go to heaven wont put salvation
in sight
Whirlwind is coming down on me
when the factory shut down so did the place
he lived blood money for junk bonds by a
white collar fugitive
all the tax free insentives aint going to
help him now
generations of job security gone out
like the horse and plow