He's drinkin' supermarket cider In a doorway in the town And he's shouting 'bout the government And how they let him down He's got a sister lives in Brixton Always tried to do her best Yet she winds up broke and shafted Just the same as all the rest
He's got a torn and greasy greatcoat And a New York Yankees vest And some strongly held opinions That he must get off his chest Yet his friends don't think about him They all gave him up for dead And they all got real embarrassed About the problems with his head
Shout it out! (Shout it out with me) Shout it out! (It's a mystery) Shout it out! ('cause what I can't see) Why he's invisible to them Yet so obvious to me
He make his home in cardboard boxes And the pigeons are his friends And you cross over to avoid him Never try to make amends For the way that he's been treated And we all must share the blame And we never look him in the eye And never ask his name
I thought we were past this stage Never in this day and age These things are still going on Tell me where did we go wrong I thought we had changed for good Maybe I misunderstood Does our new and caring nation Only care for politicians Those that have will all do well All the rest can go to hellTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
