Lyrics

I've got to brainstorm ways to keep us alive And I've got millionaire friends sending checks all of the time And with a milk box portrait blown up poster size Well, I might have found a way to keep some hope in their eyes We could panhandle on the side of the street In hopes of finding money and food for us to eat I could sell your body and you could sell mine If only we could find somebody to buy, it's over Well, we could find God and join a seminary If I was Father Clark then I'd be Father Puppy After all, God pays pretty well We could pay off all the kids to show and never tell We could get a job making $5.25 or $5.15 depending on which side of the State-line, on which we reside I've got to brainstorm ways to keep us alive I was drunk in the moment you left me And I'm surely still falling down stairs She says, "Baby, don't bother, I've fallen for another," And I ain't getting up again Well I've found myself back where I started And I've found myself one more good line She says, "Baby, don't bother, you ain't never been a father," Of an idea worth calling "alright" Ooh la la Remember those guys who lived under the bridge They were a band once but we all soon forgot How the Gay Blades fell on hard times and slit wrists They've got no fucking money, cause they would not write the hits