Besedila:
Streets Of Rage

Don't listen to what they say. They're jealous, but it's ok. It'll be me you wake next to each day, and when they're shaking their heads just turn away

Shaking hands had never been so intense. Our fingers meeting, missing puzzle pieces uniting. But I remember feeling your soft hands blanketing mine.

Hall passes and at first glance, emergency personal break. Blinded by greeting signs, she locks the doors; squeezes me against her hips. We're touching

of Lucifer's choir On the streets of madness The predator rules, stalking the night On the streets of madness The demons alive On the streets of

Here we go now. Our bodies touching, but you're fighting it, and you know that I know you're into me. Stop fighting it. The sweat running off my palms

Hall passes and at first glance, emergency personal break. Blinded by greeting signs, she locks the doors; squeezes me against her hips. We're touching

Don't listen to what they say. They're jealous, but it's ok. It'll be me you wake next to each day, and when they're shaking their heads just turn

Down on the street where the faces shine Floatin' around I'm a real low mind See a pretty thing in a wall See a pretty thing in a wall In a wall In a

died when I was seven Pops died, eleven, what's up with heaven? It's hell when you're an orphan at a early age This impressionable stage, no love breeds rage