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It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
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How I keep from going under |
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It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
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How I keep from going under |
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Broken glass everywhere |
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People pissing on the stairs, you know they just don't care |
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I can't take the smell, can't take the noise |
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Got no money to move out, I guess, I got no choice |
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Rats in the front room, roaches in the back |
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Junkies in the alley with a baseball bat |
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I tried to get away, but I couldn't get far |
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Cause the man with the tow-truck repossessed my car |
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Don't push me, |
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cause I'm close to the edge |
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I'm trying |
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not to lose my head |
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It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
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How I keep from going under |
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Standing on the front stoop, hangin out the window |
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Watching all the cars go by, roaring as the breezes blow |
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A crazy lady, livin in a bag |
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Eating out of garbage piles, used to be a fag-hag |
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Said, she danced the tango, skipped the light fandango |
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Was circon princess, seemed to lost her senses |
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Down at the peepshow, watching all the creeps |
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So she can tell the stories to the girls back home |
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She went to the city and got Social Security |
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She had to get a pimp, she couldn't make it on her own |
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Don't push me, |
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cause I'm close to the edge |
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I'm trying |
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not to lose my head |
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It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
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How I keep from going under |
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It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
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How I keep from going under |
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My brothers doin' bad, stole my mothers t.v. |
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Says, she watches to much, is just not healthy |
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\"All my children\" in the daytime, \"Dallas\" at night |
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Can't even see the game or the Sugar Ray fight |
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The bill collectors, they ring my phone |
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And scare my wife, when I'm not home |
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Got a bum education, double-digit inflation |
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Can't take the train to the job, there's a strike at the station |
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Neon king kong standin' on my back |
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Can't stop to turn around, broke my sacroiliac |
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A midrange migraine, cancered membrane |
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Sometimes I think I'm going insane, I swear I might hijack a plane! |
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Don't push me, |
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cause I'm close to the edge |
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I'm trying |
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not to lose my head |
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It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
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How I keep from going under |
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It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
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How I keep from going under |
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My son said, \"daddy, I don't wanna go to school |
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Cause the teacher's a jerk, he must think, I'm a fool |
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And all the kids smoke reefer, I think it'd be cheaper |
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If I just got a job, learned to be a street sweeper |
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I dance to the beat, shuffle my feet |
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Wear a shirt and tie and run with the creeps\" |
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Cause it's all about money, ain't a damn thing funny |
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You got to have a con in this land of milk and honey |
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They pushed that girl in front of the train |
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Took her to the doctor, sewed the arm on again |
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Stabbed that man right in his heart |
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Gave him a transplant for a brand new start |
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I can't walk through the park, cause it's crazy after the dark |
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Keep my hand on the gun, cause they got me on the run |
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I feel like an outlaw, broke my last glass jaw |
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Hear them say you want some more, livin on a seesaw |
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Don't push me, |
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cause I'm close to the edge |
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I'm trying |
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not to lose my head |
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It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
|
How I keep from going under |
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It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
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How I keep from going under |
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It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
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How I keep from going under |
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It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
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How I keep from going under |
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A child is born, with no state of mind |
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Blind to the ways of mankind |
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God is smiling on you, but he's frowning too |
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Because only God knows, what you go through |
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You grow in the ghetto, living second rate |
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And your eyes will sing a song of deep hate |
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The place, that you play and where you stay |
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Looks like one great big alley way |
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You'll admire all the number book takers |
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Thugs, pimps and pushers and the big money makers |
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Driving big cars, spending twenties and tens |
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And you wanna grow up to be just like them |
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Smugglers, scramblers, burglars, gamblers |
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Pickpockets, peddlers and even pan-handlers |
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You say I'm cool, I'm no fool |
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But then you wind up dropping out of high school |
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Now you're unemployed, all null 'n void |
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Walking 'round like you're pretty boy floyd |
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Turned stickup kid, look what you done did |
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Got send up for a eight year bid |
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Now your manhood is took and you're a may tag |
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Spend the next two years as an undercover fag |
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Being used and abused and served like hell |
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Till one day you was found hung dead in a cell |
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It was plain to see that your life was lost |
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You was cold and your body swung back and forth |
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But now your eyes sing the sad sad song |
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Of how you lived so fast and died so young |
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So, don't push me, |
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cause I'm close to the edge |
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I'm trying |
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not to lose my head |
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It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
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How I keep from going under |
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It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder |
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How I keep from going under |
