In the tumble down backyards
of Stenton Street
where half-burned mattresses live
where the Cola cans are born rusty
yet lie in the trash trying to give
And the Zombies that walk in the alleys
some wear suits, some wear feathers and rags
there are no strict rules
for the Wise Men and Fools
that eat out of Stenton Street's bags
You can go away and stay, any day friend
and you know that they'll welcome you in
as they pawn all your clothes
and hand you a Rose
'Oh friend - where you been? Where you been?'
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