Each man and each woman I see on the streets
I love and adore like sister and brother
Each face, no matter if it smiles or weeps
I take with desire, the streets are my brothel
Tears are the seeds that I greedily lick
and I sleep with sweet pain on my restless lip
I'm an addict to the drug of the strong and the weak
It's a toxin that kills, an ambrosia I sip
that implants in my soul a feeling enigma
Wretched and glum, I open the gate
to the land of the living, the bearers of stigma
I wallow in lovers awoken too late
for hearts to awaken to the sound of the plea
I cherish love letters never replied
and the loveless who bathe in the leaden sea
I swam in the rivers where women once cried
as they were drowned for the passions
that never harmed anyone
I saw a realm of medieval lore
where kings are of stone and hearts are quite wan
Where each living soul trembles before
he can croak a yes or a no
There, all men wear their hearts as a cross
and martyrs are ashamed of their woe
I was each of these, and I well knew the loss
that makes a man human and lovers unhealed
So I enter the streets and greet every soul
with tears in his eyes welling unsealed
and I embrace them with love, glory or fall
For we are brothers in flesh, by night and by morrow,
and we tread in embrace, by the bullets of love
the mines of disease and the madmen above
as boldly we march through the war fields of sorrow