Lit-tle girl, lit-tle girl, why are you cry-ing? In-side your rest-less soul, _ your heart is dy-ing. Lit-tle one, lit-tle one, your soul is purg-ing. Of love and ra-zor blades, _ your blood is surg-ing. Run a-way _ from the riv-er to the street. And find your-self with _ your face in the gut-ter. You’re a stray _ _ from the Sal-va-tion Ar-my. There is no place like home _ _ when you got no place to go. _ Lit-tle girl, lit-tle girl, your life is call-ing. The char-la-tans and saints of your a-ban-don. Lit-tle one, lit-tle one, the sky is fall-ing. Your life-boat of de-cep-tion is now sail-ing. In the wake, all the way, no rhyme or rea-son. Your blood-shot eyes will show your heart of trea-son. Lit-tle girl, lit-tle girl, you dirt-y li-ar. You’re just a junk-ie preach-ing to the choir. _ Run a-way _ from the riv-er to the street. And find your-self with _ your face in the gut-ter. You’re a stray _ _ for the Sal-va-tion Ar-my. There is no place like home _ _ when you got no place to go. _ The trac-es of blood al-ways fol-low you home. _ Like the mas-car-a tears from your get - a-way. You’re walk-ing with blis-ters and run-ning with shears. So un ho- ly, _ sis-ter of Grace. _ _ _ _ _ _ Run a-way _ from the riv-er to the street. And find your-self with _ your face in the gut-ter. You’re a stray _ _ for the Sal-va-tion Ar-my. There is no place like home. _ _