Lyrics:

Brother on the street; reach into your pocket, reach into mine.
Speak to me narcotic god, in your temple, help me? Save me?
Victory over you (trash man) is to see you dead.
Dancing in your blood. Glory in your pain.

You are clean.
We are clean.

The peddler is dead, with a kicked in head.

Weakness shows, when you see my eyes; clear, confident and unafraid.
Make your offer: extend your soul; fading, sensual and inviting.
Poison follows you cock-roach + you are next.
Dancing in your blood. Glory in your suffering.

A dead peddler.

After feeding on the young and weak, now you're face down on the street.

We are clean.
You are clean.

The dead peddler.

The peddler is dead.