Little tramp comin' up the strip with a hundred dollar smile Sparks flyin' off her fingertips, drive the young cop wild Some nights are wound so tight like a storm about to break Better stand in your doorway when everything starts to shake You get restless like a cat waking up at midnight, Hungry, never quite satisfied This is our world and these are our times This is our world and these are our times Little brother like a street god with a drop dead attitude Say he's looking like a shadow now, runnin' low on green and food Some lives are wound up tight like a wave about to crash Hard times seem to multiply while the joy runs out so fast You get restless like a kid crawling out of a bad dream Hungry, never quite satisfied Make way for the son of a rebel wired to a bottle of flame He's got two black eyes and a purple heart and a bone hangin' on a chain These times are like dynamite, a head-on with history Some fool's bound to burn it all down, don't care about you and me He'll get desperate like a child in the eye of a nightmare Hungry, never quite satisfied