| We aren't quite ready yet | |
| To stop thinking cause the future's dead. | |
| The city keeps calling us to pay her sins. | |
| Wounded lovers on the streets repent. | |
| They just Howl all night long. | |
| All night long. | |
| Dead kids walking by business men; | |
| They pick the pockets that had buried them. | |
| Poverty's calling from a mother's home; | |
| I hear them begging, wishing... all alone. | |
| They just Howl all night long. |