See Moe with a cup of joe, ***** hair, he's old. There's his toes through his socks, basically bone. The rains made his calling card runny. He says he wouldn't have it if he got his car running.
His excuses are pitiful, he's sticking anticubitals, Planning a funeral But he'll wake up per usual With a cop bop of the Top of his head. Wipe the sleep, find a corner Shake his hand for some bread. The coins don't fill up in Des Moines though.
His kinfolk don't recognize Him anymore- Ain't that something? Used to break bread But took off running. Didn't even look back when They heard that he was bumming.
Moe can't get out of this hole. Chasing charlie really took its toll. Now he's the saddest thing on Euclid And it's stupid. Went and fought for freedom just To come home and lose it.
The poor man, can't even afford A storage can. Old school hobo Played war with his hands. Now we don't even give a ****. Now he's asking around for a bullet He can swallow. This what happens when your soul goes hollow. What fills him rage is he lied about his age. Woulda been a different story if This fib wasn't played