The pulses of originality beat
Art and wonder, grime and horror are here
The angry scream, the hopeless drink their fear
Here in this unique place the tribes all meet
The pounding of a million wing-tipped feet
Rushing from the train to their home that’s near
In fatigue they stop to enjoy a beer
The aggrandized have their lazy-boy seat
Yet He still haunts the alleys and the lights
Longing to woo them to his bleeding arms
And give them what they forget they long for
Teaching them joy in surrendering rights
Endowing peace in the midst of alarms
We will show them how to open the door.
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