You gotta believe me
I'm doing my best
I apologize for all the flack
I caught for dropping out
Yeh you kicked up a storm
but the winds have died down
I got a lot of bottles
on account of this around
I'm sorry I'm not him
The poet's right hand
The artistic little suffering
son of a working man
Hey you work yourself in
but it spits you right out
Why is it so hard
I should've run you out of town
If it looks like it is
then it probably ain't
The more than you talk the more
my interest goes away
Hey you work yourself in
but it spits you right out
Why is it so hard
I should've run you out of town
I should've run you out of town