Phony Drunken Poet

Filthy Thieving Bastards

Compositor: Não Disponível

In the last days of September
Winds were blowing down our blocks
Back in town the dead old trees
Rocking ferries and the docks

Bottle Benny drinks a beer
then pissed off the fucking pier
They cursed the god who made the winds
amiss with shoes and socks

(Chorus)
Lend me this month's rent, My dad just bought a round
you'll get your money right before I leave this town
Lend me this month's I'm working underground
claiming all my riches at the lost and found

For a while I was painting houses
In San Francisco coastal lots
In the evening I would drink my wages
on the weekends down the spots

The bartender raved at me
over a lousy cup of tea
"you must be a phony drunken poet
'cause I've fucked all the jocks and cops"

(Chorus)

My dad just needs to get some air
he's underneath the fence