I'm not angry, I'm a no good piece of shit
I've heard that every day, it just rolls off my back
Left town frustrated, no one to talk to
Alone with the thoughts in my head
People I respect knock me down, so I sit
Like a piece of garbage washed up on the curb
And it's funny in a place where one in ten have no money
You hear one in ten encouraging words
"Yeah, the wise men don't know shit, it's a poor fuck like me
On the streets got it all figured out"
Said an old man, piss drunk on a Wednesday
With a smile from his dirty, toothless mouth
Made me smile and he asked me for a smoke and some change
When a cigarette was all I had to give
And I sat around watching cars
Thinking stupid fucking thoughts about my friends
And my school and my girl and myself
And I wish I could go drinking where no one knew my name
And I didn't know anyone else
I sat alone, bored, accomplishing nothing
Another summer day, more thrown away sunshine
"Now don't get offended and don't curse me out
But I'm starving and I sure could use your dimes"
I looked up at a young man not much older than me
Gave a dollar and a smoke and some time
He said "I fought for Uncle Sam, now he won't fight for me
Threw me out when I was done serving time
I said I wouldn't go into special forces and kill"
He said "Then stay out on the streets and fucking die"
And there's two kinds of prisons, some say
One where you're locked up and everything's outside and the other where you're outside and everything is locked away