Come and see it ruin
The wonderful city big myth
Under the burden of poverty's dark complexion

Where the ammoniac stink of urine
Dried by the heat of the exhaust-pipes
And of the tropical sun
Burn the nostrils

A place to purge resignation
Lowered-head sin
And “Yes, Sir” in the Lips

Bright faces
The stink of sweat
And of the recomforting alcohol breath

Red
Concrete and dust
Grey
Unbearable heat
Blackish yellows
The smiles that easy
The Hell's Central Station