The bars of the cage,
and the trash in the gutter,
and the people coming out of the clinic:
It gets worse every minute.
D Bm G A
It gets worse every second.
My lovely city (my lovely danger).
My favorite lovely stranger.
And the tooth for the bone
And the rat for the apple
And the knife for the throne
And the crib for the rattle
And the bars of the cage
And the trash in the gutter
And the people coming out of the clinic:
It gets worse every minute.
It gets worse every second you're in it.
It gets worse every minute.
It gets worse every second.