My car broke down in Arizona, have to
Ride the bus again, at ten-o-clock on
Tuesday night, with thirteen cents and a
Broken pen. I put my backpack on the
Bench, tell two people I don't smoke,
See the cop across the street, he thinks
That I am selling dope, I could have
Walked another block, to get away from
The scene. Why does it always come to
This, where zero meets fifteen?
And so I gave my thirteen cents, to the
Man who peed his pants. He passes out
And falls on me, I watch my change fall
From his hand. I see the lady next to
Me, holds her baby black blue.
The junkie gutter-punks keeps asking,
Where I got my new tattoo. What does
It matter anyway, thirteen cents or all I
Own? How can I ever save the world,
On cup-o-soup and student loans?
I want to try and save the world, but it
Never goes that way.
God I don't know what to do, down at
Colfax and Broadway.
Now the man with no shoes on, says I
Don't know how to play. He says I
Fumble all the time. He thinks that I am
John Elway. I put my face down in my
Hands, water wells inside my eyes.
What do I have to give them? Does it
Matter if I try? I can't stand to see you
Suffer, I try to intellectualize, a formula
To end you pain, it doesn't work, God
Knows I've tried.
Sometimes my cup is overfilled.
Sometimes I'm too afraid that I'm going to spill.