Forty-four months since the slammer door closed
 They give me a suit and put me back on the road
 And my thoughts are racing
 Where do I go? What am I supposed to live on?
 What happens when the twenty-five dollars is gone?
 That leaves me lots of time to wonder why I was born
 But the countdown is on

 Everybody's dancing
 The music sounds entrancing
 But you can't find the beat
 It's the ticking of a thousand human time bombs
 Who are back on the street

 Oh the names have been changed
 But the story's the same
 History will repeat
 Add it all up and then divide it by zero
 'Cause you're back on the street

 I can't stand the strain of this job no more
 I must have forgot what I took it on for
 I make lots of money, yet still I want more
 And my head is blazing
 I think that I'll check out the shops downtown
 Sometimes it helps to buy things when I feel brought down
 At this hour I might dodge those hippie low-life's around
 But the countdown is on

 Once you had to stand out
 Looking for a handout
 Free love and body heat
 And that money's just a crumpled green b
When you're back on the street

 Back on the street again
 Said you're back on the street again
 The countdown is on
 And nobody knows when

 Spreading like a cancer
 Looking for the answer
 In everyone you meet
 And each in his way has a hustle to play
 When he's back on the street