Lyrics
Hello to you, my sweet young friends
Have you got money perhaps you could lend?
I wash my leather face in the afternoon sun
My shirt's turn my time's near done
Touching the untouchables but they don't know
Respect the disrespectable's, but in the end you know
You turn away, what can I say?
Spend my nights in the telephone booth
I make sure I leave the phone off the hook
There are no Jones' and I pay no rent
I have to stand straight because my back's so bent
Tell my secretary I ain't takin' any calls,
And if you want to find me, just ask the boys
Down at the wall that's where I'll be
Oh
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Park bench and cigarettes
Can you help me get off this fence?
Can't you see, I'm just an old man
Tryin' hard, do what I can
Touching the untouchables but they don't know
Respect the disrespectable's, but in the end you know
You turn away, what can I say?
You'll never, never know
You'll never know
WRITERS
COLIN JAMES HAY, RON STRYKERT
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
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LyricIQ Analysis
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