Our twisted home

Lancaster,
this dark city feels no pity,
from tourists eyes it may seem pretty but dig deeper.
It's drug demons have tricked me,
a city so spangled,
it's wreckheads keep it entangled trapped in their drug craze,
they run rampid in its maze.

Jaws swinging as they sprint through church bells ringing,
no god can save this pity,
police flood the city street with their pride,
 but their fear can no longer hide,
The streets corrupt in their reign for blood.

Now chaos has it's turn,
its time that the bizzies burn.
Drop a gram and make a plan,
storm their flats and kill their family.

Overun by scum,
a bottle of rum in one arm and a needle in thr other.
We cry out for help,
only to see our hometown melt.

Rescue won't come...
...this city is far done.