When the weatherman says sunshine but the beams don't touch your window-sill When the weatherman says sunshine and the beams don't never touch your window-sill You know the good times didn't get you and you know that the hard times will All my money gone, everyday there's a knocking on the door All my money gone, everyday there's a loud knocking on the door It's that mean old rent collector-man, he's coming back to get himself some more All my money gone All my money gone Man says: you gotta pay your bills now Or I have to put y'all out on the street Dancing 'round the golden calf People don't see the writing on the wall When you're down so low, you know You ain't got so far to fall In this city full of plenty Some folks just got a piece of street and that's all See them poor homeless people Shoving grocery-carts along the street Carry everything they own In a grocery-cart they shove along the street See them lie in the gutter Lost their hope, lost their pride and dignity
Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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