This story's dark like the place where this starts, of fiends, and gangsters with gory hearts, drugged-up girls dressed up like tarts, performing sex, and perverted of art, and anybody with a fantasy needs fulfilling, the filth, cops that lock up a man for stealing, for Quent, bent, sweat dripping off the ceiling sadomasochists, who to quench their thirst for beatings anything goes you've got the riches, but only the sexually pay for pregnant bitches, her name's Katya, he was to do he wished with, if ya into that wake up with morning sickness, and have to their way past people fucking, punters hooked on hookers on smack, cluckin, spent a day touched up and butt-fucking, wishing she'd up from the nightmare she was stuck in, but she weren't waking up nothing, this was her reality, place where dreams come for those who lack morality, she had to get out, if not for her child, for her sanity, 'cause the only difference between place and hell was gravity. You want the business, runaway, runaway, the money man? You want the business, you want the business, the business, the money X2 It was a weird twist of fate, the way she escaped, she knew her would come, she just had to wait, 'till one of her made a mistake, mixing vodka with pills and smoking a straight, with the door unlocked, ain't the idea, when your runnings are and your cargo live in fear, the path was now clear, but for a exit, the road ahead was long, and full of unexpected, twists and turns, she inadvertently, how to cope life's little moments of uncertainty, feeling safe on the street, absurd it seems, the and baby unit, where she had disturbing dreams, was a place she didn't was safe and had to leave, would be a matter of time before she had police, asking her questions, out the truth about her underworld connections, sending her back to the brothel, either that, or just deportin' her, she's met corrupted law before, she can't see them her, so if she goes the road, it slowly starts destroyin' her, not knowing where she's going, or why grudgers(?) keep her. You want the business, runaway, runaway, where the man? You want the business, you want the business, the business, the money X2 Life was in the brothel, now it's hard in the street, 'cause is a language she can hardly speak, like so many Eastern European you meet, difference is they legal and they earning their keep, she was smuggled into almost four months gone, she know she was pregnant 'till they saw the bump, and now the here and they're both on the run, if she don't beg, steal and borrow she no kind of mum, her feelings a vicious circle, a big set of teeth, the sharper they are, the the thief, so now broke again and she don't even know it, she reaches for the purse and it hurts 'cause she stole it, to it ain't there, I guess you reap what you sow, its a how karma works, it's hard to work out where she's going, resortin' to prostitution when the traffic is flowin', her ride stops and drives off when it sees what towing, must be hard knowing that nothing but a peasant, game for the hunt, its the prairie pheasant, loitering at bus-stops bored adolescents, with sex on their mind, you give off the impression, that you'd sell yourself for money, not the thought repellent, fucked in the field from behind, for you best feed your child just so it don't cry, its unpleasant, but that's what she did and now we're in the present. runaway, runaway, runaway, runaway, runaway, runaway,