My car broke down in Arizona,

have to ride the bus again,

at ten-o-clock on Tuesday night,

with thirteen cents and a broken pen.

I put my backpack on the bench,

tell two people I don抰 smoke,

see the cop across the street,

he thinks that I am selling dope,

I could have walked another block,

to get away from the scene.

Why does it always come to this,

where zero meets fifteen? 



And so I gave my thirteen cents,

to the man who peed his pants.

He passes out and falls on me,

I watch my change fall from his hand.

I see the lady next to me,

holds her baby black blue.

The junkie gutter-punks keeps asking,

where I got my new tattoo.

What does it matter anyway,

thirteen cents or all I own?

How can I ever save the world,

on cup-o-soup and student loans? 



I want to try and save the world,

but it never goes that way.

God I don抰 know what to do,

down at Colfax and Broadway. 



Now the man with no shoes on,

says I don抰 know how to play.

He says I fumble all the time.

He thinks that I am John Elway.

I put my face down in my hands,

water wells inside my eyes.

What do I have to give them?

Does it matter if I try?

I can抰 stand to see yousuffer,

I try to intellectualize,

a formula to end you pain,

it doesn抰 work,

God knows I抳e tried.

Sometimes my cup is overfilled.

Sometimes I抦 too afraid that I抦 going to spill.