The junkman down the street, he’s looking for some trash He ain’t got no home But the shit piles up and it’s thick with broken glass It’s a managarie he calls his own And I’m walking by his grocery cart thinking about my past I got some garbage all my own And I’m looking for Jesus in the old man’s face But now the prophet is long gone And his head is hanging low He’s got no place to go And all he can do is eat and sleep And hope tomorrow that he’ll know
Did somebody done told somebody something wrong? 'Cause the church bell is faking and plays the tired old song And the birds and the dogs got it all figured out They know when to scream and shout And fat lady Hatchinson yells at the kids ‘’Get out of my yard and go home! Leave my plum tree alone!’’
The morning has broke like an old window pane I hear tires rolling down the road And it’s gas and steel that we have to thank To get us to where it is we don’t know And the doctors fix the sick by cutting out the disease That they ain’t really found no cures And the preacher makes a killing Of the congregation who’s willing Telling them heaven is for the poor
And our heads are hanging low And we got no place to go And all we can do is eat and sleep And hope tomorrow that we’ll know
Did somebody done told somebody something wrong? 'Cause the church bell is tired and plays the same old songs And the birds and the dogs got it all figured out They know when to scream and shout And fat lady Hatchinson yells at the kids ‘’Get out of my yard and go home! Leave my plum tree alone!”
But our heads are hanging low We got no place to go And all we can do is eat and sleep And hope tomorrow that we’ll know That we’ll know