Coach car pulls up next to me
With a man clutching something tight
In the palm of his hand

He's got a grin that has won
Every other son
But I tell'em "Not this one"

There was a fury in His eyes
I could tell the way he lied
As I let out that sigh

Selfishness touched his gait
As he walked away quick
Me neither standing nor in wait

What a fate this man had planned!
What a worrier in this land
All the while the grip in his hand

Skipped off quick
To get another fix
Of that selfish way of love

And as he pours his read wine
Jabbering on and on in dine
I know I'm still standin' fine