Momma always told me to get a job that pays||
She is gone now but would she laugh in my face?||
Look at me i cant even keep my head up||

Life is a series of questions: We spend it looking for answers||
Like how did I end up like this? Playin guitar on a street corner||
I'm stricken with Hunger, a thrist for life||
waitin for mine to end, waitin for mine to change||

Speakin of change, Do you have some, No didn't think so||
Nobody does or just nobody cares im a worthless soul||
My kids hate me , my clothes are ripped and torn||
My waist gets thinner and my skin turns to paste||

These things make me wonder could it have been different||
Could I work at McDonalds maybe the BK,||
Not even that great but its still better then 10 cents a day||

Why was I born, Why did I go to the Interview?||
Did I know that I couldn't last at the job?||
I some how knew I would be Laid off?||

Momma always told me to get a job that pays||
She is gone now but would she laugh in my face?||
Look at me i cant even keep my head up||

At least I have my guitar for company||
I've held it for so long its a part of me||
It probably needs a tune, I cant play any way||
I figured it will get stolen from me one day||

Just like my life, Wait im still here||
To quote a fellow street dweller||
"Why lie, I need a beer||

Momma always told me to get a job that pays||
She is gone now but would she laugh in my face?||
Look at me i cant even keep my head up||