South Side from Red Blood by Peter Buzzelle

Threading every avenue
To cut through this town
I’m on the south side
Chasing ribbons

Black tar full of holes
With sand and mud for your nose
While on the west side
We see much clearer
and on the outside
The air is sweet

The smell on the road
Dead fish decompose

While on the north side
Is the theatre
and on the inside
The air is sweeter

BPD on patrol
Living off their parole

Wile on the east side
The water’s clearer
and on the outside
The air is sweeter

The air is sweeter, and fills up
With fever, don’t breathe

I didn’t choose this town
It chose me, and
I don’t want to stay
But it won’t let me leave

Memories all around
Of a life I didn’t lead
But I would do it all again
For a chance to believe

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