| Every day held a new surprise
|
| I watched the hunger burning in my sister’s eyes
|
| The paste-board shack we called home
|
| Would haunt me in my dreams
|
| 'Cause there’s nothing soft about hard times
|
| We never knew anything groovy
|
| A dime meant bread and not a movie
|
| The muscles that controlled my smile were rarely ever used
|
| 'Cause there’s nothing soft about hard times
|
| Had to go 'cause I could see I wasn’t meant for poverty
|
| The family ties were broken soon and I went off to find the moon
|
| So I sit on a bench in Jackson Square
|
| I drink my wine and I breathe the midnight air
|
| Tomorrow I’ll just hit the street and bum another dime
|
| 'Cause there’s nothing soft about hard times
|
| Had to go 'cause I could see I wasn’t meant for poverty
|
| The family ties were broken soon and I went off to find the moon
|
| So I sit on a bench in Jackson Square
|
| I drink my wine and I breathe the midnight air
|
| Tomorrow I’ll just hit the street and bum another dime
|
| 'Cause there’s nothing soft about hard times |