The bars of the cage, and the trash in the gutter, and the people coming out of the clinic: It gets worse every minute. D Bm G A It gets worse every second. My lovely city (my lovely danger). My favorite lovely stranger. And the tooth for the bone And the rat for the apple And the knife for the throne And the crib for the rattle And the bars of the cage And the trash in the gutter And the people coming out of the clinic: It gets worse every minute. It gets worse every second you're in it. It gets worse every minute. It gets worse every second.
