and so we on our tiptoes creepndown the alleys, beneath the streetsnpast the trash and past the siltnpast the canal which our hands builtnnon our backs we've slung rucksacksnand in our hands is rope held slacknwe know most the beggars and whores by namenbut for those unknown tonight Death makes his claimnnwe swear secrets keptnnthe tide met the shore and their lives were washed awaynthe sea forever will be the one who's blamednwe won't, no never be the ones to take the blame