The night's freezing with winter's dirty snowfall cascading down onto the black streets, a rare occurrence in this city. The nights and days are usually hot, burning hot like hell's fiery flames. You bathe in sweat, everything sticks to you, it almost makes you go crazy. This usually doesn't happen, not in this city.

The city comes alive! It's a damn beautiful broad lying flat on her back, beckoning you with her luscious finger, begging you and screaming for more. And you give…and you give…and you give…and you lose. You dig yourself so deep the more you give, it drags you down into it's black abyss. You can never get out…there is no way out…no…way…out. Lies and deceit and corruption and perversion, they all run amok in this city. It runs through, hitting everyone it touches, it's like a damn plague! With no cure for it. No one calls this city by it's real name, not anymore…no one calls it by it's real name. This city without pity…this city without hope…this city of sin…

And the dames, there's none like them, none like the ones that dwell in this city. They roam free, in the town of yesterday, they roam free with their flamboyant attire and their anarchists tendencies. They sell their love and their bodies and bathe in lust, but cross them and they'll show you no mercy…they own the town of yesterday…they rule with an iron-fist. The town of yesterday, where not even sirens dare go. The sirens go scream else where…they scream like their victims scream, like they're being dragged straight right down to hell's depths by Satan himself.

The screaming it echoes and reaches, it can be heard to the furthest outcries of this godforsaken city…to the furthest reaches of this hell hole. They reach Lennox and North Cross, the haunted farm…bad things have happened there…unspeakable things…things that will make your blood go all cold. They reach and travel, until they become but a whisper in the ears of monolithic beasts, the rulers of a different era, the kings of yesterday. They stand erected by bloody pools of black tar. Like clenching claws, the tar grabs whatever it can find, and pulls it down, down where no one will ever find it…ever.

Now the city calls to me like the damn beautiful broad she is, she beckons for me, she begs for me. And like the servant I am I go. I'm a slave to the city. This city without pity…this city without hope…this city of sin…