Bum

I’ve got a trash bag
Full of pretty metal cans
I’m savin up for my birthday.
I want a lunch box
Full of lots of nice cigars
I’ll run away someday
but not to far.
I says I can’t stay
but you know I’ll never goes
I wears the place like its my clothes

Says, just a bum, there’s something wrong with him
We’re sorry but there’s nothing we can do.
Says, just a bum, and that’s the one thing that keeps him
From the likes of me, or the likes of you

And if I was you,
I says I wouldn’t sit there
I says there’s bombs off in Time’s Square
I doesn’t work where they give me money for my beet
Says, works my biggest fear.
I sings a drunk song,
Lost without the words
I drinks another, sings another, song that I just hums
And then I talks about the birds.

Says, just a bum, there’s something wrong with him
We’re sorry but there’s nothing we can do.
Says, just a bum, and that’s the one thing that keeps him
From the likes of me, or the likes of you.