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[[File:Rottcover.jpg | thumb | right | Cover art]] {{Songbox | Name = On The Streets I Ran | Album = [[Ringleader Of The Tormentors]] | Length = 3:51 | Writer = [[Writer::Morrissey]] / [[Writer::Jesse Tobias]] | Producer = [[Producer::Tony Visconti]] | Recorded = Autumn 2005 | Release = April 2006 | ArtistType = Morrissey }} [[Category:Morrissey Lyrics]] ==Information== == Lyrics == <poem> A working-class face glares back At me from the glass, and lurches: "Forgive me, on the streets I ran Turned sickness into popular song" Streets of wet-black holes On roads you can never know You never have them But they always have you Till the day that you croak It's no joke A working-class face glares back At me from the glass, and lurches: "Forgive me, on the streets I ran Turned sickness into unpopular song" And all these streets can do Is claim to know the real you And warn: if you don't leave you will kill or be killed Which isn't very nice Here, everybody's friendly But nobody's friends Dear God when will I be Where I should be? And when the palmist said: "One Thursday you will be dead," I said: "No, not me - this cannot be Dear God, take him, take them, take anyone The still-born, the new-born, the infirm - take anyone Take people from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania - just spare me" </poem> {{CommonSongSections | Artist = Morrissey | Song = {{#replace:{{#replace:{{PAGENAME}}| (single)|}}| (song)|}}}}
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