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
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