Walking on a summer day down in Warland Square When we came upon a begging flower with dreadlocks in her hair A younger girl, cyanotic too soon She shoots us back a look, keep that pity to yourself Then she turns away so violently and fixes up again Life-stealing chill digging into her
Why have you turned out this way? Have all those cheap shots got you running so far away?
Because it owns, owns the rights to your soul Numb like a mortician, funeral parlor cold Somewhere beneath the rot lies a rose Before the poison stream stole the rights to your soul Rights to your soul, rights to your soul
Reluctantly I throw some cash and pity in her can Knowing full well that the money is earmarked for a bad plan Admit kindness to a fault, I guess She half smiles, half cries, catch that pity in my eyes Then she looks away within a hurry for her begging cry Christ, she looks on her last leg
Why have you turned out this way? Have all those hot shots got you running so far away?
Because it owns, owns the rights to your soul Numb like a mortician, funeral parlor cold Somewhere beneath the rot lies a rose Before the poison stream stole the rights to your soul Rights to your soul, rights to your soul
How do you concede young life to a dragon? How about kicking your demons loose for a ride on the wagon?
Why have you turned out this way? Have all those hot shots got you running so far away?
Because it owns, owns the rights to your soul Numb like a mortician, funeral parlor cold Somewhere beneath the rot lies a rose Before the poison stream stole the rights to your soul Rights to your soul, rights to your soul
Owns, owns the rights to your soul Numb like a mortician, funeral parlor cold I remember such a little rose Before the heroin stole the rights to your soul Rights to your soul, rights to your soul