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