Preacher won't you preach to me,
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I need a pint of philosophy.
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I'm hurt and thirsty, set me on my way.
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Mondays come and Mondays go,
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But this one seems to be sort of slow.
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Can you tell me sir, when will there come a change?
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I'm the one who's last at the table,
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I'm the one who never gets the gold.
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You're the one who says I'm able,
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But you turn your words with lies and fables...
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Mothers won't you cry for me,
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I'll sell your tears for a token fee
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On a street corner where drunk patrons stand laughing.
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And they'll stop, they'll stare at me,
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Scratch at their heads, "How can this be?"
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I'll say, "I was born like you, --
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" then I'll startin dancin'...
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Hello, Mr. Bureaucrat.
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You pick who's thin -- you pick who's fat.
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Now what makes you so fit for the shoes you walk in?
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In an office space you get a taste
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For paper money and paper waste.
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Now who gets what depends on who is talking...
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-----------------
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Last at the Table
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| Ellis Paul |
