The Pirate Life

We may have to fight With concealed guns And razor-sharp knives To make it from the east side To our lost friends on the west side. We have seen the blood-spattered pavement Mournfully cradle the dead, Eyes begin to slowly shut Softly flashing last prayers And farewell glances. The pirate life in the gang-sectioned-off city, Luna, with your tight jeans and sweet smile, We made peace with the Hispanic kids, They’ll let us slide for the next mile Until we at least catch up with Joey the Freak. Hold on tight the journey has just begun And I can feel the breath of considerable threats, But you’re like a good-luck charm, sweetheart, So I’m placing my bets, We’ll find Joey and then make it home for another night.