DOWN HERE IN THE STREET
THERE IS A PLACE CALLED THE DARK SIDE
WHERE THERE ARE NO FREE RIDES OR ANY MERCY
BECAUSE IF YOU PLAY BY THE SWORD
YOU DIE BY THE SWORD NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU BEG
OR SWEAR TO THE LORD FOR GIVENESS,
THEY DON'T CARE THEY STILL CUT YOU UP
UNTIL YOU BLEED ENOUGH WHERE YOUR SPITING IT OUT
LEAVING YOU FOR DEAD WITH A BULLET IN YOUR HEAD
A KNIFE IN YOUR GUT DRAINING OUT
YOUR VEINS LIKE THE POURING RAIN
FALLING FROM THE DARKENED CLOUDS
AND NOW YOUR FLESH IS HANGING OUT
YOUR HEART STOPS AND YOUR SOUL IS GONE
YOUR BLOOD IS ALL AROUND YOU
ALONG WITH THE COPS
WHO ARE TRYING TO FIGURE OUT
WHAT WENT DOWN TOO
THAT'S THE PRICE YOU PAY
FOR COMING TO THE DARK SIDE TO PLAY

DARK SIDE

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-dark-side-4/