My car broke down in Arizona, have to ride the bus again, at ten-o-clock on

Tuesday night, with thirteen cents and a broken pen.

I put my backpack on the bench, tell two people i dont smoke, see the cop

across the street, he thinks that am selling dope.

I could have walked another block, to get away from the scene.

Why does it always come to this, where the zero meets fifteen?



And so i gave my thirteen cents, to the man who peed his pants.

He passes out and falls on me, i watch my change fall from his hands.

I see the lady next to me, holds her baby black and blue.

The junkie gutter-punks keep asking, where i got my new tatoo.

What does it matter anyway, thirteen cents or all I own?

HOw can i ever save the world, on cup-o-soup and student loans?



I want to try and save the world, but it never goes that way.

God i dont know what to do, down oat Colfax and Broadway.



Now the man with no shoes on, says i dont know how to play.

He says i fumble all the time.

He thinks that i am John Elway.

I put my face down in my hands, water wells inside my eyes.

What do i have to give them?

Does it matter if i try?

I cant stand to see you suffer, i try to intellectualize, a formula to end

your pain, it doesnt work, God knows Ive tried.



Sometimes myu cup is overfilled.

Sometimes Im to afradi that Im going to spill