A west side run through.
One string away from taking the lead.
We stalked the streets at night to live, to feel, to breathe.
Bring back those days of gold where the torch was ours to bare.
A troubled youth to some, to us our crown to wear.
I see a time, a sanctity of brothers.
We knew another world, A west side horror.
A torch burned out before his own time.
We close our eyes at night to hurt, to heal, to breathe.
Bring us back to the day.
Bring us back to our ages of innocence.
Our times to live forever.
Our worlds will meet again.
Worlds.