No Romance in This Rome

The bus stops are bustling
the hookers are hustling
the city's in full swing
and every man's a king.
Every woman is whore
nothing but a bore;
some thighs and breasts and hair
to try and make the masses stare.

It's nothing but a circus
filled with writhing serpents.
Be consumed by perversion
lose your introversion.
Dance burlesque in the streets
with the buskers and their beats.
Have a body beneath your hands
as shifty as these sands.

Dye your hair, bleach your skin
because you know you don't fit in.
There's no prince to take you home
there's no romance in this Rome.
It's all gladiate and fight
pray that you survive the night
because the crowds, they consume
and the clubs will be your doom.

This life is a glamour
to the paparazzi when they clamour
it's a game on TV
"oh please god, just stare at me."
I need food, a place to stay
and maybe minimum pay.
I'll work down to the bone
to pay back your seventh loan.

Please just get me off these streets
with the buskers and their beats.
There's no romance in this Rome
please, just someone take me home.
I don't belong here, don't fit in
something's itching beneath my skin.
There's no romance in this Rome
please, just someone take me home.