He was a back alley street fightin man He just do what he please A bad struttin mother, a sucker for His gun and his needs Yeah, mad at the world Thrown down and tied to the whippin' Post, oh he's a lost soul Who wants it all You know a poor boy with muddy hands Ain't got no childhood memories There's no way out for this punk called Street fightin' man Yeah, street fightin man Well there's a black cloud that covers The city a shadow he stands Taken through the darkest alleyways and Taught fist, blood, and greed And nothing more Sad at the world Like a heart that bleeds with a cut Od a knife oh he's a lost soul Who wants it all Mad at the world Poor souls how no respect For no one at all Oh I won't be coming home No I won't Street fightin' man He was a back alley street fightin' man He just do what he please For ever to be damned Just a beggar, begging on his knees You know it; s down, down, down To the depths of his soul There ain't no loving home man For tha street fightin' man Street fightin' man And mad at the world No I won't be coming I won't be coming Home