I've got to brainstorm ways to keep us alive
And I've got millionaire friends sending checks all of the time
And with a milk box portrait blown up poster size
Well, I might have found a way to keep some hope in their eyes
We could panhandle on the side of the street
In hopes of finding money and food for us to eat
I could sell your body and you could sell mine
If only we could find somebody to buy, it's over
Well, we could find God and join a seminary
If I was Father Clark then I'd be Father Puppy
After all, God pays pretty well
We could pay off all the kids to show and never tell
We could get a job making $5.25 or
$5.15 depending on which side of the
State-line, on which we reside
I've got to brainstorm ways to keep us alive
I was drunk in the moment you left me
And I'm surely still falling down stairs
She says, "Baby, don't bother, I've fallen for another,"
And I ain't getting up again
Well I've found myself back where I started
And I've found myself one more good line
She says, "Baby, don't bother, you ain't never been a father,"
Of an idea worth calling "alright"
Ooh la la
Remember those guys who lived under the bridge
They were a band once but we all soon forgot
How the Gay Blades fell on hard times and slit wrists
They've got no fucking money, cause they would not write the hits