City boy

I got a story, a story to tell.
About a long road
back from a sory of hell
I been flying almost every night.
I been ready to burn
and I been living to die.
SO take a look, take a look in my eyes:
Cause I got no remorse for all the hate
that burns inside.
Take a look at my suicide.
Self destruction
I know the streets can be so cold
I know these streets
can make you feel so cold.
I've got this gun to my head all alone.
Another bottle of pills almoste gone
My cigarette burns
right trough my soul.
I'm almoste home.
And I'"ve seen:
broken hearts and broken dreams
like broken bodies.
under the pale street lights tonight.
I've seen the hate and yeah
I've heard the lies.
So I turned my back
and now I'm on the outside
I know the streets can be so cold
I'm almoste home.
Self destruction.
I'm on my way home.