Don’t hide me in a shoe box
only in shoes fit for a king
I’m just a poor man walking
in rich men’s things
like the checkered jacket I’m wearing
the vinyl bag, tarnished rings
I’m just a poor man walking
in a rich man’s things
yet, there ain’t no way of knowing
how rich I am, that be true
unless you look down on me
smudge the shine right off me shoe
yeah, there ain’t no way of hiding
me pride or anything
when I pull out to dangle
a rusty gold watch, and silver tin
where I keep fine stained paper
and my tobacco rolled in
Like I say, me brother
I’m just a poor man walking
in a rich man’s things
among the high class dining
treating myself to their bin
I’m just a poor man walking
in rich men’s things
yes, I’m living the life
and nothing stopping
living every man’s dream
till I’m another poor man
in a coffin, with a chauffeur
in a black limousine