Faces
|
Cracked for reason beyond recognition
|
Uh-huh
|
His space is
|
At the Palace, he sleeps for twenty five cents
|
Uh-huh
|
Now he's wiping headlights
|
Windshields with an old rag
|
It ain't nine to five
|
Down and dirty, he's an old tramp
|
He poses like a dead man
|
The night train passes by
|
|
Money's
|
Not the answer for princes and dancers
|
Uh-huh
|
|
He's standing under street lights
|
He's thinking of his old life
|
He lost his pretty young wife
|
The corner is his big plan
|
His brunch with Jim and jitters
|
Boston blue laws ain't for shitters
|
And newsprint is for cheaters
|
Cement mattress for believers
|
|
A dirty old bum
|
He's a dirty old bum
|
He can't say "Yes"
|
He can't forget it A dirty old bum
|
|
Now he's shooting power curves
|
His buddies think he's got some nerve
|
Mrs Face had other lovers
|
Her arms smothered other numbers
|
|
He freezes
|
Christmas season, all saints protect him
|
Uh-huh
|
His face is
|
Cracked for reason beyond recognition
|
Ah
|
|
-----------------
|
Faces
|
Blondie |