Upton

i'm not angry i'm a no good piece of shit

i hear that eeryday, it just rolls off my back

left out frustrated no one to talk to

alone with the thoughts in my head

the people i respect knock me down,

so i sit like a piece of garbage washed up on the curb

and it's funny in a place where one in ten have no money

i hear only one in ten encouraging words

"yeah the wisemen don't know shit,

it's a poor fuck like me on the streets i got it all figured out"

said an old man piss drunk on a wednesday

a smile from his dirty toothless mouth made me smile

and he asked me for a smoke and some change

a cigarette was all i had to give

i sat around watching cars thinking stupid fucking thoughts about

my friends and my girl and my school and myself

and i wished i could go drinking

where noone knew my name and i didn't know anyone else

i sat alone bored accomplishing nothing

another summer day, more thrown away sunshine

"now don't be offended and don't curse me out,

but i'm starving and i sure could use your dimes"

i looked up at a young man not much older than me

gave him a dollar and a smoke and some time

he said "i fought for uncle sam and now he won't fight for me

he threw me out when i was done serving time

i said i wouldn't go into special forces and kill

he said 'then stay out on the streets and fucking die'"

yeah there's two kinds of prisons

some say one where you're locked up and everythings outside

and another where you're outside and everything is locked away