Blackout, heatwave, .44 caliber homicide The buns drop dead and dogs go mad In packs on the west side Young girl standing on a ledge looks like another suicide She wants to hit those bricks 'cause the news at six gotta stick to a deadline While the millionaires hide in beekman place The bag ladies throw their bones in my face I get attacked by a kid with stereo sound I don't want to hear it but he won't turn it down Life is tough but it's just enough To hold back the tears until it's closing time I survived, I'm still alive But I'm getting close to the borderline Close to the borderline
A buck three eighty Won't buy you much lately on the street these days And when you can get gas You know you can't drive fast anymore on the parkways Rich man, poor man, either way american Shoved into the lost and found The no nuke yell we're gonna all go to hell With the next big meltdown I got remote control and a color t.v. I don't change channels so they must change me I got real close friends that will get me high They don't know hot to talk and they ain't gonna try I shouldn't bitch, I shouldn't cry I'd start a revolution but I don't have time I don't know why I'm still a nice guy But I'm getting close to the borderline Close to the borderline
I thought I'd sacrifice so many things I thought I'd throw them all away I didn't think I needed anything But you can't afford to squander what you're not prepared to pay
I need a doctor for my pressure pills I need a lawyer for my medical bills I need a banker to finance my home I need security to back my loan It isn't new what I'm going through But everybody knows you got to break sometime Another night I fought the good fight But I'm getting closer to the borderline Closer to the borderline.
Printer Friendly Version
