Faces cracked for reason beyond recognition
His space is at the Palace
He sleeps for twenty five cents
Now he`s wiping headlights windshields with an old rag
It ain`t nine to five
Down and dirty he`s an old tramp
He poses like a dead man
The night train passes by Money`s not the answer for princes and dancers
He`s standing under street lights
He`s thinking of his old life
He lost his pretty young wife
The corner is his big plan
His brunch with Jim and jitters
Boston blue laws ain`t for shitters
And newsprint is for cheaters
Cement mattress for believers
Now he`s shooting power curves
His buddies think he`s got some nerve
Missus Face had other lovers
Her arms smothered other numbers
He freezes
Christmas season all Saints protect him
His face is cracked for reason beyond recognition