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lyrics

Spare a penny please . . .

A quarter century on welfare, I’ve got three mouths to feed
Every brand new day is not a blessing just a boundary
The only thing that’s grounding me are close friends and
loose change
The search for stability’s a wild goose chase
So will I lose faith?
I’m hopeless on these doomsdays
Pantry Tuesdays to help me cope as my dues raise
Toothpaste? man are you kidding that’s a luxury
Just a couple of potato chips, that’s what lunch will be
Not even a full bag, my kids got no Dad
I only got one pair of pants; I’ve got to sew that
It’s sad to know that I’m about to get evicted
Thought god loved the poor, cause that’s what his word depicted
And as I’m seeing all these rich folks step up in their
Corvettes
I’m on my ass in the ice rink of Polar Vortex
My mind races; the body moves slow
Spare a penny for my thoughts cause I just want you to know

My mind races, while what surrounds me moves slow
Spare a penny for my thoughts cause I just want you to know

Pride is not an issue nowadays with the donations
I’m falling off the world out of tune with intonations
Barely fill my stomach but keep filling applications
Tears fall on the concrete as I’m praying for oblations
I just received a call
“Your son’s caught in a drive-by.”
Day by day is how we live, not what we live our lives by
So go ahead, call a social activist
And let my wrists know I’m a hackivist
Trying to deal with everything, my daughter’s disability
Got a sharp pain up in my liver and it’s killing me
On the way to work, dodging bullets, that’s agility
Begging on the street, selling cigs, versatility
Clothes without holes and I think I’m on the Ritz though
Working these streets, my co-workers are skitzo
My mind races; the body moves slow
Spare a penny for my thoughts cause I just want you to know

credits

from Better Day That Never Comes Tomorrow, released December 31, 2017
*Vocals engineered and mixed by FRESHFACE
*Violin and additional vocals performed by Julia Nyunt
*Mixed and mastered by Thoughts On Standby

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Thoughts On Standby San Pedro, belize

Our dead friends write songs for us.

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