For 50 cents press your face to the window
As chicken wire cuts 8 fingers and 10 toes.
Who’s in charge? Nobody here knows.
These are the days, they fill my nights.

So put your faith in your 17 bucks now.
Cover your head, you know, and that should be enough now.
We’re out of dimes, and almost out of wine.
These are the days, they fill my nights.

This is the place it’s anywhere.
Sand in my shoes, sand in my hair
Surf city, surf’s up, surf’s out, surf’s over here, surf’s gone.
I know my part, I know the way.
Somewhere 50th street and Bay.
I’ hope nobody listens to a word I say.

Hold on. How long? Till dawn.
These are my fights these are my friends.
This is the night that never ends.

Lyrics submitted by BrownBabu84

50th and Bay song meanings
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