Streets of Temptation

STREETS OF TEMPTATION

Wine don’t do the job anymore
as I wander through the streets of temptation.
I’ve been wealthy and I’ve been poor,
but I never once asked for salvation.

The cries of judgment
and lost regret . . .
I’m thinking about the day we met,
and suddenly I want a cigarette
as I wander through the streets,
wander the streets
of temptation.

Funny, after all these years
my eyes are dry, there are no tears.
My courage has been reduced to fear
as I wander through the streets of temptation.

Sometimes I feel victory
over my own insanity,
and then a veiled transparency
is lifted off the streets,
lifted off the streets
of temptation.

But dreams become nightmares at times.
Occasionally, they turn into rhymes.
The cost is sleep and hidden crime,
as I wander through the streets
of temptation.

I don’t know, I’ve been told
that fools are bought and wise men sold,
that sand can hide fool’s gold
paved on the streets,
paved on the streets
of temptation.

I can’t calculate the price of peace,
just know that it’s beyond my reach.
My character is often impeached
as I wander the streets of temptation