There was a dumpster in an alley Looked like a black bear in the road There is a stain of blood, a Sixers cap And the stench of piss and beer There was an outskirt's glow of lamplight From a half a block away And there was the ghost of greed, The ghost of fury and the ghost of fear There was a charred spot in the gutter That would slick up in the rain There was a half tin can That been burned over the brand (name) Tall windows paned and plywood, where houses closed forever And the every night mosquitoes With no intent to land There came an old dog with a bad limp He had a slow gait and a hunger There was some pigeons on a wire And they were open-eyed and still There was an aura to the whole place Like someone else was lurking Such is the history of where someone has been killed...