Where are you?

There's gotta be a record of you someplace
You've gotta be on somebody's books
The lowdown; picture of your face
your injured looks
the sacred and profane
pleasure and the pain
somewhere your fingerprints remain concrete
and it's your face I'm looking for
on every street

Lady killer, regulation tattoo
silver spurs on his heels
he says "what can I tell ya as I'm standing next to you?
She threw herself under my wheels."
It's a dangerous road
and a hazardous load
And the fireworks over Liberty explode in the heat
and it's your face I'm looking for
on every street

This three-chord symphony crashes into space
the moon is hanging upside down
I don't know why it is I'm still on the case;
it's a ravenous town
You still refuse to be traced
seems to me such a waste
and every victory has a taste that's bittersweet
and it's your face I'm looking for
on every street.

~Mark Knopfler
"On Every Street"