Three guys pass me by all in white t shirts They're in a sixty three super sort and they don't like my looks I'm in the middle of Brooklyn I can't see no escape' They say the south is a bummer But this isn't so great Ain't life a blast So low down middle class From the day you're born you know you'll never kiss ass White middle class blues Now I'm sitting down to diner there's so much food on your table You can throw away your vegetables you can eat till you're not able And you veins fill with butter and the blood won't flow through them And your kid ods on goof balls and gives the finger to you