Read all about it in the bylines
they don't make headlines
like the benefit scroungers,
I'm talking hard times,the sign of the times, times,
them on the street with nothing but time
and there's nothing like time for
saying it is time and squashing you up like
you've ****** on a fresh lime.
I'm looking at legs on page three
wishing that gal was with me
but I'm under a tree in the park,onto
page four,they're talking a war
what's it all for?
For old times sake
I take the paper for a pillow upon which I'll lay my head and tomorrow I may be dead or be eating bread and butter in the gutter with Frank and Sally,she's a ****** but that's not relevant,nothing is,
not even the headlines,
when you're living and dying and falling on hard times.