Alone or in company, the city makes me nervousnyou know i’d rather benwith little Sorrel or your housenor a little bit furthernwhere i’d be standing with my reassurernsuch an engine speaks such gear wordsna sight for a civillians prayernan American on the Dorsett shorenruns for it(x3)nto risk the pathetic again tonightnsuch poverty compells us to perfect our pridenrun for it(x3)