I'm running through the backdoor
Hoping that my god will let me in
As the people start to notice
They scream "oh man, better wake him up"
Hey kid you'll never want to follow him
But the rich kids on the corner
Just to lay the poor upon the boys
Walking out, they're on your shoes
Like chalk upon the face of Rex
Beating out to keep their head above the noise
When everyone's a down and out
You don't know where it ends
But the forecast tells the lads to push on through
Beyond the tepid shade a face is wrecked in the afternoon
The lucky like to stick it to the truth
So sing a song in sixpence
I'll stick it to the change
But men can never seem to make it last
The send all three I owe it to the hate, the love, the cut
The scar I will have to wear upon the mask
I bet you'd like to see a poor man start to smile