|
Here he come walking down the street
|
Got them funky ragged things on his feet
|
He got half a busted moon in his smile
|
Now I know he's walked that long and lonely mile
|
|
He's got the waistcoat made of sad, sad, sack
|
He see a red door and he want to paint it black
|
He's got a vote for you now if you dare
|
To not pretend that he's not there
|
|
Yeah, he's coming down on you
|
Yeah, what'cha you gonna do?
|
Your the only one walking down the street
|
He's the only one that you're likely to meet
|
At this hour baby,
|
|
You're so used to living in luxury
|
Greed's made you blind and you just can't see
|
So many people in the world today
|
Who won't ever have things their own way
|
|
You live protected, respected, inside the law,
|
You're sunny-side-up, he's wearing his yolk raw
|
You say you never took nothing he'd refuse,
|
He's living off the crap, man, that you can't use
|
|
|
-----------------
|
At This Hour
|
| Spin Doctors |
