You get high-jacked, waiting at the bus stop. By Jesus, who's working at the pawn shop. Escaped by, barely in the picture. But never far from the lens.
Take off your halo, take off your golden crown. The spotlight's off, the shades are down. Where are your friends now, they're ghosts in a windowpane. Sometimes it's hard to stay the same.
I woke up late. Put my sweater on. And I walked down to the shop. I stood in line. 'Til the line was gone. And my turn to win was lost. . What do you do.