Christmastime in Motor City
But things ain't really pretty
Leather, streets of paper, rusty panties
Smell of money in the air
But you kip on a dollar anywhere!
I'm out of work, it's been awhile
So don't ask me to smile
I ain't no scrote, I liked the symbol
But I can't even remember
Seeing Santa Claus this year
Well I heard he got a job
And he's changing me to Bob
You can shave in the lobby of a Cadillac Hotel
They gave him unemployment but no food stamps
(Once we get the cramps)
They'll give you jobs
But there's no place, still by the ramps
Christmastime in Motor City
But things ain't really pretty
Leather, streets of paper, rusty panties
Smell of moneys in the air
(Air, air, air, air, air, air...)
It was not a night to be with birds
Christmas Eve without the tender words, without a place to call my home
Combing my hair and eating the bread
They bobbed their heads and walked right up
Their cup is filled but mine got spilled along the way
At two a.m., I'm off the streets, sitting in a donut shop
A sad-eyed girl mops the floor next to my feet
A light in here is far too bright, the radio is playing "Silent Night"
I sit and watch the traffic panic, it sails away
Look at this...It's Christmas Day...
Christmastime in Motor City
But things ain't really pretty
Leather, streets of paper, rusty panties
Smell of moneys in the air
(Air, air, air, air, air, air...)