I'm a man. Torn in two. State and nation. I've got to choose. For on these streets. That I spit upon. There's no money in my pocket. No soles on my shoes.
Hey now!. . The iron gates clang in a steel mill town. A man breaks down to that unemployment sound. He takes a last walk down that old coast road. In the dying death throes of all that he knows.
I'm a man. Torn in two. State and nation. I've got to choose. For on these streets. That I spit upon. There's no money in my pocket. No soles on my shoes.
I'm a lonely man walking lonely streets. I'm soaked to the skin with the pain of my unease. From such a strained existence. . The tension in this world keeps me from sleep.