[Intro]
There is a dark, dank, dismal, disgusting place
Deep down within the black and bitter heart of Binghamton, New York
An awful hole in the ground, hole in the wall, need it like a hole in the head
A nasty little fucker of a joint
You wanna get yourself a little bit of K2, a little bit of that Old Spice, a little bit of that Synth
You're gonna wanna take a few steps down Court Street, make a left at the traffic signal
It’s a one way street, but not in a classic sense, no, not in a literal sense
Metaphors, bro
But there's a nasty little place or seriеs of places adjoined, a cluster
A clustеrfuck
Cement, concrete, graffiti scrawled on the walls
And the furniture stuffed in the closet for long enough to make our ends meet
If you catch my drift
A nasty little place in town called Front Street
[Verse 1]
I'm in a meat-pack plant by the gutterside
A slaughterhouse apartment with a slice of lime
I’m cruisin' with the bruisers, boozin', I'll be a suitor, losing my mind
Because there's nothing to find
The fetid stench of bad intentions hangs in the sweat
I'm in a sauna hot with drama, and I'm tryin' to forget
All the masochistic rapture missteps
Imminent pleasure’s ready to cut to the bone
There is a dark, dank, dismal, disgusting place
Deep down within the black and bitter heart of Binghamton, New York
An awful hole in the ground, hole in the wall, need it like a hole in the head
A nasty little fucker of a joint
You wanna get yourself a little bit of K2, a little bit of that Old Spice, a little bit of that Synth
You're gonna wanna take a few steps down Court Street, make a left at the traffic signal
It’s a one way street, but not in a classic sense, no, not in a literal sense
Metaphors, bro
But there's a nasty little place or seriеs of places adjoined, a cluster
A clustеrfuck
Cement, concrete, graffiti scrawled on the walls
And the furniture stuffed in the closet for long enough to make our ends meet
If you catch my drift
A nasty little place in town called Front Street
[Verse 1]
I'm in a meat-pack plant by the gutterside
A slaughterhouse apartment with a slice of lime
I’m cruisin' with the bruisers, boozin', I'll be a suitor, losing my mind
Because there's nothing to find
The fetid stench of bad intentions hangs in the sweat
I'm in a sauna hot with drama, and I'm tryin' to forget
All the masochistic rapture missteps
Imminent pleasure’s ready to cut to the bone
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