There is bad blood walking down that road, with a stride of discontent.
Something bad is in the water here, and the money’s all been spent.
The business men and lawyers have no more dividends to cash.
They’ve scraped the bottom dry and clean. Leaving bad blood and a rash.
The spirits have come calling, say there’s not much left to do.
Or in my dreams I heard a voice, “Out of bad blood beauty grew.”