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Kenny Silvers the boy who disappeared,
Kenny Silvers the boy who disappeared

Kenny gets by on a fiddle almost every day
Chasing his childlike
multi-billionaire
This is who you are
Five dancing teenage boys who sing their way into our hearts
Backstreets back alright

And there's a toxic cloud hanging
I was running late for a night downtown
Me and the boys gonna tie one down
So I took a short cut through an alleyway
And this sound just took my
on the corner cried out, "Nickels for your pity"
Then gasoline boys downtown sure talk gritty
It's so hard to be a saint in the city

I was the king
on the corner cried out, "Nickels for your pity"
Then gasoline boys downtown sure talk gritty
It's so hard to be a saint in the city

I was the king
I was running late for a night downtown
Me and the boys gonna tie one down
So I took a short cut through an alleyway
And the sound just took my
could have run wild
On the backstreets of Lyon or Marseille
Reckless and legless and stoned
Impregnating women
Or kissing mad street boys from Napoli
on the corner cried out, "Nickels for your pity"
Then gasoline boys downtown sure talk gritty
It's so hard to be a saint in the city

I was the king
on the corner cried out "Nickels for your pity"
Them gasoline boys downtown sure talk gritty
It's so hard to be a saint in the city

I was the king
from years gone by
Toxic waste you buried inside
In Darktown
Take a turn step on down
Through an alleyway you'll find
By the backstreet trash
[Sinner, Susemihl / Jackson]

In the cold and nasty city
Where men are fighting to survive
People kill without a cause
In the backstreets
Kenny Silvers 
The boy who disappeared,
Kenny Silvers 
The boy who disappeared

Kenny gets by on a fiddle almost every day
Chasing his
Sometimes I see this little boy
Sobbing with narrowed eyes.
He knows that stones will hurt but anyway
He's fixed on the other side.

The older
to drink
The backstreet filled with villinous laughter
Running through life fast and faster
Follow your team love 'em so true
Till Saturday comes right back
the backstreets there's a sinner
Where the low life keep on falling
And the victim pays the winner
But the price just stays the same

Tonight come on calling
me dead

You better watch out for the razors in the night
You better leave out the razors in the night

Backstreet boys wear boots and braces
Grow up into big Hitlers 
Look what they do 

Behind ever big man there's a small boy 
Drink to Stalin and Hitler and Jimmy Boyle 
Hard men get all
winners on MTV

We have two singers
That's two for all the girls and boys
But I guess were still outnumbered
If you count the Backstreet Boys
The hecklers
Backstreet Boys, Boys 2 Men. 
I never wanna hear that crap again, 
But there's Nothing Good on the Radio. 
(Nothing!) 
No there's nothing good
Sunday, you got a way with the Negro boys,
Comes to steppin' on their women, spendin' all your cash just to hear their noise.

You got cool, not even you
with the soldier boy behind
He's much older now with hat on drinking wine
And that smell of sweet perfume comes drifting through
The cool night air like
[Sinner, Van Der Graaf]

Down at the corner
We're spending our time
Takin' anything that's going
We get out of the line
On the run with the boys
Lust
Backstreet boys are here to stay
Nothin' will get in their way
We're the firm and they all know,
When we come they don't wanna know,
We're the ones
the weekend 

The kids are alright but they don't smell much
The sellup in the garage in the decks and the stuff
Dying for the weekend 

The boys
Backstreet boys
Are you with it
A.j hit it!

Come on girl and get down
Smack it up
Flip it
And move it all around
Here it is if you want to get with