A tenement, a dirty street Walked and worn by shoe less feet
Inside it's long and so complete Watched by shivering sun
Old eyes in a small child's face Watching as the shadows race
Trough walls and cracks and leave no trace And daylight's brightness shuns
The days of Pearly Spencer
The race is almost run
Nose pressed hard on frosted glass Gazing as the swollen mass
On concrete fields where grows no grass Stumbles blindly on
Iron trees smother the air But withering they stand and stare
Trough eyes that neither know nor care Where the grass is gone
The days of Pearly Spencer
The race is almost run
Pearly where's your milk white skin ? What that stubble on your chin?
Buried in the rot gut gin You played and lost not won
You played a house that can't be beat Now look your head's bowed in defeat
You walked too far along the street Where only rats can run
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