Wear the crown made of thorns on the day I was born

By the light of a cold television

And I remember the boss in his uniform

As he marched from the field of vision



Well he didn't come home and it was just us alone

The brat and the widowed civilian

Then one April night after Ma took her life

I fell down the street to oblivion



And I took what the dumpsters were giving

And I did my best to survive

'Cause I figured that life's for the living

While you're alive

While you're alive



Bring out the gin and the small violins

I'm a raging success as a failure

And it's colder than hell in this cardboard hotel

Which I share with a chronic embezzler



So I beat my retreat down collister street

To one of my holy places

And they tangled my wings with wire and string

But I'm spinning in a whirlpool of faces



And I'll take what the dumpsters are giving

And I'll do my best to survive

'Cause I still think that life's for the living

Yes I still think that life's for the living



And I'll take what the dumpsters are giving

And I'll pray every night to St. Giles

But I still think that life's for the living

At least for a while

At least for a while