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