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
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