I grew up on one side of the river I was a disturbed dangerous drifter Moved over to the other side of the river Now I'm a drop in a deluge of hipsters Something a guy from the first side said To die in a cipher city to a cinder Male or female, beggars still the only ones calling me "mister" And some of my dreams Are coming true And some of the smoke from the other room Is seeping through And some other ghost in another tomb Is screaming too Black hole open up wide Yr lost son is coming inside Spaceship? Or a lifeboat? Put me out coach, I'm ready to float Who would fardels bear to grunt and sweat 'Neath a life that was so mundane? And what would you expect from a guy like me On a day such as Monday? When I know life begins at the moment of consumptions So taxing on the dollars and the sense of deduction And every cent I ever earned, I spend and I would again It's easy turning me on I'm nearly a robot I've been building bombs Bombs between beers and blow jobs Lifeless automaton feeling like a ghost I don't know much but I know which side's buttered on my toast From jersey I come but I pump my own gas I'm a dirty bum but I wipe my own ass If you're chasing any other kinds of currency, son You're really doing little more than twiddling your thumbs