And go hungry the same afternoon.
  Sometimes the only quarters between you and a rainstorm
  Are the quarters of the moon.

  You know for every one way to sit up
  There must be five hundred ways to beg.
  And how can you ever be a man of standing
  With a chain wrapped around your legs.

  Just like Arbogast on the top two stairs
  You're waiting for a corver to come cutting through your cares.
  Living on your savings, saving up your prayers
  Come on down, the new millionaires.

  The famous say walk in their footsteps
  But don't you go tread on their toes.
  And if you wait for luck to open up
  You'll be waiting there to see it close.

  Well I think it was a viscount
  Or it might have been a prince
  When he said enjoy your leisure
  He did nothing to convince us