作曲:S. Sturgeon
歌词:
no panhandling they say it isnt a job
oh but i disagree you ignorant slob
but there may come a day when yer found down and out
and the hateful replies will fill you with doubt
you might be a skinhead you might be a punk
just give us a quarter so we can get drunk
thank you for shopping and please come again
you suffer to know try even harder to see
making sense of yer life in a fucked reality
from decatur st up to avenue a
from el guadelupe in texas to the san francisco bay
you turned a spanging job into a life long career
for a tin tabaacco and a fourty of beer
now yer drinkin and yer thinkin is my bad luck running out
your stopped by the cops and you hope and you wish
and yer askin real nice for them to letcha go
so they ask if they were shot in the street
would you laugh in their face and you can't say no
after all of the times that you barely scraped by
with the lice in yer hair and the gleam in yer eye
now yer drinking and yer thinkin is my bad luck running out
with the cobra we drank and the shit we were talking
in the tenderloin gutter we were crack city rocking
yeah when we were alive we were wicked and young
with the good times we had and the songs we sung
now it's sad that you died and i wish you would stay
but i sold all my stamps at the end of the day
and now i'm drinking and i'm thinking is my bad luck running out
after all of the times that you barely scraped by
with the lice in yer hair and the gleam in yer eye
now yer drinking and yer thinkin is my bad luck running out
i got assualted by officer friendly
on the fourth of july stick a needle in my eye
i said i didn't do nothing and whats this all about
he said resisting arrest as his pulled his baton out
spitting bile and blood as they left me for dead
my thoughts leaked out through a fissure in my head
and the last one left is: is my bad luck running out
