I've seen your imagination high above the halfway 
station,Always working, always making something for the 
pile.
Then you set it all on fire.
You can learn to make something real,
That comes from the heel of your life.
I'm still trying.
You don't have to break your mama's heart to change the 
world.
Mama's boy's daddy is in the crack house again,
Watching car crash shows with the pipe in.
A pack of dull monkeys could write circles around,
That fourth grade, mumbly slang,
Stream of consciousness, jive that you call a song.
Is that going to be your story?
Child, you don't have to break your mama's heart to 
change the world.
You're never gonna change your mind,
Don't just rearrange the lies into a straighter line.
Not too many years ago there was hippies killing 
people,
A mile away from the Marlboro Ma.n
Now there's sandpaper pants on the gutter punks, And 
lowriders with their heads in the trunks or Walking in 
fours, and kicking in doors, cutting it up, and filling 
their cup.
You don't have to break your mama's heart to change the 
world.
Said you don't have to break your mama's heart to 
change the world.
Change the world.
Poor, poor LA.
Poor, poor LA.
Poor, poor LA.