Darkness descending Night coming down in the city She walks the streets in search of fortune Down in a doorway a man with no hope or pride He can't go on, he can't survive Out in the jungle called the city You'll never make it on your own You got to have that Silver and gold see you grow old Turn with your back to the wall Silver and gold out in the cold Run but there's nowhere to go He's got no futre, all just because of his past He's got a gun he's tired of talking Hole in your pocket hole in your shoe Chip on your shoulder you got that too You steal a ride you're tired of talking Out in the cold, cold winter city You'll never make it on your own