Yellow Jackets

Before you walk you’ve got to wrap your chain
Through both your wheels
And once through the frame
Because the crowds in the West End
Die with the weekend
Sunday to Thursday, wreckage on replay
I call it home
I still call it home
We watch as the yellow jackets roll in
Feel their sting and then they’re gone again
But nothing’s changed
And the kid who was tackled
Dragged away and shackled
Is replaced in a day, there’s cash to be made
So there’s one more
There’s always one more
A small stitch for an open wound
Can’t see the blood when I get up at noon
Because nothing’s changed
My red eyes see not a thing
13 floors up in the spring
Sheets of leaves hide all the rot
The poverty that beauty forgot