Night’s cold, boots worn thin, Chasin’ every bad habit I’ve been livin’ in, Sewer smoke risin’, coke buzzin' in my veins, Got a pocket full of nothin’ but that's always been the same. Dumpster-fire glow on my face, I’m runnin’ with the outcasts, fallin’ from grace, Stealin’ what I gotta just to get through the night, Every fucker on the sidewalk lookin’ for a fight. But I ain’t breakin’, I’m breakin’ out, Livin’ like a riot ’til the lights burn out, Ooh-oh-oh! We’re the gutterborn, the hungry ones, Whoa-oh-oh! Hearts beat fast like we're on the run, Ooh-oh-oh! Cash for the pit, broke but free, Whoa-oh-oh! Stage is a church and the street’s our creed! Shit talk, cracked jaw, fistfight grin, Whoa...we laugh it off bleedin’, do it all again, Got a crew full o’ bastards, but they’re all I trust, Every punch is honest, every curse a must. Ooh...divin’ through windows for a twenty and a fix, Whoa... runnin’ from the cops on a broken broomstick, Life ain’t pretty but it’s ours and loud, We’re the fuckin’ spark lighting up the crowd. Ooh...and we ain’t slowin’, no backin’ down, Whoa... livin’ ’til the Devil tells us to “turn it down,” Ooh-oh-oh! We’re the gutterborn, the hungry ones, Whoa-oh-oh! Hearts beat fast like we're on the run, Ooh-oh-oh! Cash for the pit, broke but free, Whoa-oh-oh! Stage is a church and the street’s our creed! Ooh...cheap beer, sweat drippin’ down my face, Whoa....amps hum, people scream, the same everyplace Ooh... stage lights cut through smoke and haze, Whoa...this is where the dead feel alive for days! Ooh-oh-oh! Raise your scars and your torn-up hearts, Whoa-oh-oh! We were streetborn punks from the very start, Ooh-oh-oh! Still broke, still wild, still free, Whoa-oh-oh! And this fucked-up world ain’t takin’ that from me!
