| Cold, colder than the night before
|
| He told you, yesterday seems like a life ago
|
| He sold you anything, he finds and steals
|
| They stole his mind, and it sits in a jar with the feds
|
| He misbehaves
|
| It must be his mother’s fault
|
| Rat race just passed him on by
|
| I said hold him down
|
| He acts like a lunatic
|
| Hogtied like a rodeo and off to jail
|
| Grow, well he’s growing more paranoid and insane
|
| He told you, he’s a homeless millionaire with a tale
|
| One more, one more dime so he can get some rocks
|
| Bold, hustling tourists in the parking lot
|
| He misbehaves
|
| It must be his mother’s fault
|
| Rat race just passed him on by
|
| I said hold him down
|
| He acts like a lunatic
|
| Hogtied like a rodeo and off to jail
|
| Well he don’t look so good today
|
| I said, oh Lord
|
| Staring through the cars at the window
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| Across the street
|
| Well his eyes are crazed, wild, glazed
|
| The pigs they come, they’re gonna shake him down
|
| Shake him down
|
| He misbehaves
|
| It must be his mother’s fault, oh
|
| Rat race just passed him on by
|
| I said hold him down
|
| He acts like a lunatic
|
| Hogtied like a rodeo and off to jail |