I am not the working son of a working son.
The sun? it never shined on me.
I am everything you hate.
I am every thing you can never be.
These city streets were paved for me
and I will use them well.
Until my dying day I'm burning in hell.
As for faith, it's just too f*cking much to bare.
I know the world could never care.
I'll find my worth in this world of wealth.
Amidst the struggle, the sun is burning my f*cking flesh.
When this city's dead we'll all go underground to rest in misery.
The sun will never shine on me again.
The world could never f*cking care and when it's all over
we will arise from the ashes of your worthless f*cking pity.
We'll make a name for ourselves, by ourselves,
we'll watch the stars come down to leave this city.
Sacramento is Dead