Traces

WRITTEN BY CHRISTOPH BOUET

He walks through the night
He needs a place to go
There ain't no kid, ain't no wife
That he could work for
Somewhere in a backyard
He lies awake and alone
Starrin' at the sky
Waitin' for the dawn

Last hour in the streets
He tries to close his eyes
Some drunks smack his face
And stab him with his own knife
And the boys want fun and kick him
While he tries to fight
They burn his rags and he flickers
Like a neon light

She needs all the little things
That make your life so sweet
And she works so hard
Till her body bleeds
She hates these bastards
But the bastards are rich
Her phone keeps ringing
Someone needs a bitch

He was a smart young boy
He still lives with his dad
He never made trouble
Nor any girl sad
But their money vaporized
He couldn't find a job
Now he rides through the night
The trunk full of dope

One more time to say good-bye
And she takes a walk
Gets a call from her kids at home
But she don't wanna talk
The last time she was seen
She got into a car
Disappeared in the alley
Last night for a star