We'll live out our lives on this dirty old street,
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only because we just can't compete.
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But in the concrete of our younger days, we left our names.
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Just like the people before, when they reached
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the distant shore with their drink and their dance,
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and their dreams and sincere aims.
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Ghosts long gone, through old buildings they stare.
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With their offspring staring at me for they are still there.
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Dreams that are dead and lives not realized.
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Why did we write our names in these streets,
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to show we're alive?
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Well, Chicago is my home and I'll never want to roam,
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to live on any sun swept distant shore.
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Well, it is where I was reared by forbearers so revered,
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and I sing the songs that they all sang before.
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Well, any woman that's neared me
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has been repelled most thoroughly.
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Still I'm a lover God, I am foremost of all.
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A musician that's my call of high degree professional.
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But I'm afraid I do not know my trade at all.
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And if it's every twenty years
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some small relief to me appears,
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then the crock of gold will wait until that day.
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To defend myself no more,
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lay the shield of anger at my door
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and the sword of alcohol will stow away.
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All the people in our town are overworked and broken down.
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Begging cheques but it's just not enough they're giving.
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Crying quietly, living life so desperately.
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That something has to make this life worth living.
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Real life is only a timeline,
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and the excitement holds the short times.
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It will never measure up to what TV sells as great.
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All the drunken jokes and views,
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exciting pubs they tell the news.
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But the exciting pats, well, they just weren't all that great.
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I met a girl one night and enchantment fixed our sight,
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so we decided we would hold it for awhile.
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But she would not love me, so inside me finally said,
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"It's not your fault."
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But I would like love if only for a while.
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Well, it's on and on I've seen, yeah that's how it's always been,
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and how it will be as ever on I go.
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Oh, but ever on I will.
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Through all the banal times until I find some
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place to me that seems like home.
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-----------------
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The Crock Of Gold
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| The Tossers |
