Hobo Eyes

It's a perked-up city, polished and pretty. There's coffee in my cup, And I'm all hyped up. I'm sitting in my stall behind a plate glass Wall. While the street beggars Mingle in the heat. There's no disguise for those hobo eyes, No escaping their burning glare. It's the pain and the blame of junkie. It's the world where nothing's fair. I'm sitting on my broom, I can't see you. 'Cause the coffee in my cup has me All hyped up. You slowly saunter by on a different time. Then you grab what you will, And we all sit still. There's no disguise for those hobo eyes, No escaping their Burning glare. It's the pain and the blame of junkie. It's the world where nothing's fair. It's a jacked-up city, full of sin and pity. There's coffee in our cups, And we're all hyped up. Here inside our border, there's no law and order. The only rule is to take More than give just to live. There's no disguise for those hobo eyes, No escaping their burning glare. It's the pain and the blame of junkie. It's the world where nothing's fair. It's the pain and the blame of junkie. It's the world where nothing's fair.