(M. Knopfler) Skint in a material world I did a warehouse stint for southsea girl It was Hong Kong clothes for cash Everybody got treated worse than trash Punch the card in the company clock Load the trolleys and the company trucks And around and around the whole day through And you couldn`t sit down when there was nothing to do Well they had beaten up people from every land Fools like me trying to be in bands A little French girl so good to me But I couldn`t love her back so lonely A backpacker travelling through A lumberjack with the travelling blues We had worn out shoes and worn out cuffs And big ideas that were never big enough He said the man wants you go wash his car Hey you I`m talking to you I said me, not me uh uh No can do No can can do no can No can can do no can Now some were grown up unlike me And were dealing with reality I was spittin` sulkin` smokin` shirkin` While a lady from Jamaica was singing and working I had everyone but me to blame And every day was just the same Well nobody ever said it was a righteous world But if they did they never said it at southsea girl He said the man wants you go wash his car Hey you I`m talking to you I said me, not me uh uh No can do No can can do no can No can can do no can Well I`ve made my bed on peoples floors Opened up and closed some doors Dreamed that if my dreams came true Then I wouldn`t do what I didn`t want to Walking through the gates to the outside To dream some dreams that never died And I walked the streets of London town Looking for a place to put my head down
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