A simple man of modest means
Seeking his dreams like he’s looking for lost keys
Stashed up with memories
Of who he used to be
A rope tied around his throat
Choked out with doubt
Till he can hardly breathe
Picking at seams
He watches his friends leave
Their final words, obscenities
Rolls up the window, turns the AC up cold
And the stale air through his thinning hair
And the scent of the seats
And the ache in his knees says he’s growing old
All told there’s mold under the glove compartment
Ever since he left that dark apartment
Ever since he left his heart discarded
Started sleeping in his car again and spends
All his money on gasoline
And all his time on elegies for what could’ve been
He won’t stop looking but he never sees
Beyond daily atrocities
And the building bills and fees it takes
To make it in the land of the free where nobody’s home
As some simple man of modest means
Stuck in traffic on a lonely road
They say beggars can’t be choosers
Still we’re begging just to get by
In a world of winners and losers
We’re fighting for the losing side
