Gotham city's burning

Wander with me the dirty streets of desire Bums, wine-O's, crackheads all looking to get high. Dreamers, looking for a future. A poet projecting his miseries. All passengers in their vestal, Wandering, searching, forgetting, getting shitfaced. Stumbling through life with their sole's worn thin ...Ohh the things we should have been And yet here we are, Pondering life. Here in desire we find God, In the face of a dealer At the bottom of a bottle And in the apathy of youth Here, the moon will be the patron saint, The patron saint of lost causes. She will watch over us and echo our pain in her face. ...So wander with me the streets of desire, And pay the toll to your final resting place. Walk amongst us in the streets of the lost ...Here in the streets of desire