| That nice easy mark at the edge of the park
|
| Was a slam dunk if ever I saw one
|
| I don’t know what happened, I just let it go by
|
| I guess maybe out of respect
|
| This old town is my home, and I’m not so far gone
|
| That I don’t feel like anyone else
|
| And it didn’t seem right to add to the wrong
|
| I decided to get me some help
|
| If not know then when? |
| I said to myself
|
| Over and over again
|
| Make it right, get free, get rid of the junk
|
| I’ve heard it can happen that way
|
| I went down to the clinic on a hundred and tenth
|
| And got on the methadone program
|
| I waited on line every morning at nine
|
| For my little white cup, my reprieve
|
| It was going OK, I was feeling alright
|
| I even got back with my daughter
|
| I lost a few friends, who were anything but
|
| And just took it one day at time
|
| If not now then when, I kept asking myself
|
| Over and over again
|
| Make it right, get free, get rid of the junk
|
| They say it can happen that way
|
| I can’t say for sure how it all fell apart
|
| One thing just led to another
|
| Next thing I knew I had stolen a car
|
| I was flying straight up to the Bronx
|
| Must’ve lost the old touch, I blew through a toll
|
| They caught me just outside of Rye
|
| Sporting all that remained of my new-found resolve
|
| A shirt that said NYPD
|
| Some shred of my soul could almost believe
|
| That the Lord sent those cruisers for me
|
| Make it right, get free, get rid of the junk
|
| But it don’t always happen that way
|
| At the half-way house we’re all sitting around
|
| Watching the State of the Union
|
| And I’m rolling that stone right back up the hill
|
| Watching out for the shit coming down
|
| The President’s up there grining that grin
|
| Thinking he’s some kind of John Wayne
|
| We’re howling and jeering all his talk about shooting
|
| And drilling our way out of this
|
| If not now then when, I’ll keep asking myself
|
| Over and over again
|
| Make it right? |
| Get free? |
| Get rid of the junk?
|
| That nice easy mark at the edge of the park
|
| Was a slam dunk if ever I saw one
|
| I don’t know what happened, I just let it go by
|
| I guess maybe out of respect
|
| This old town is my home, and I’m not so far gone
|
| That I don’t feel like anyone else
|
| And it didn’t seem right to add to the wrong
|
| I decided to get me some help
|
| If not know then when? |
| I said to myself
|
| Over and over again
|
| Make it right, get free, get rid of the junk
|
| I’ve heard it can happen that way
|
| I went down to the clinic on a hundred and tenth
|
| And got on the methadone program
|
| I waited on line every morning at nine
|
| For my little white cup, my reprieve
|
| It was going OK, I was feeling alright
|
| I even got back with my daughter
|
| I lost a few friends, who were anything but
|
| And just took it one day at time
|
| If not now then when, I kept asking myself
|
| Over and over again
|
| Make it right, get free, get rid of the junk
|
| They say it can happen that way
|
| I can’t say for sure how it all fell apart
|
| One thing just led to another
|
| Next thing I knew I had stolen a car
|
| I was flying straight up to the Bronx
|
| Must’ve lost the old touch, I blew through a toll
|
| They caught me just outside of Rye
|
| Sporting all that remained of my new-found resolve
|
| A shirt that said NYPD
|
| Some shred of my soul could almost believe
|
| That the Lord sent those cruisers for me
|
| Make it right, get free, get rid of the junk
|
| But it don’t always happen that way |