Scumbag

Woke up monday morning With a bad back Head full of piss Thinking fuck that I'm not coming in Called my boss up sick He said you're sacked You little shit I rolled a spliff And drank a tin And it sank in Early weekend Finally found the pause To wonder through the cause Of all the problems lately Whats life if it's all hazy maybes It seems I'm never sure Of anything at all Except that monday to friday Is someone else's chores Slapped on my bag Went on a walk To spend my last four bucks At the liquor store I came up short buying four more Then I called my landlord She said I'm gone Monday morn' I'm out the door So I I stumbled out the stairs To staring eyes Without a care My middle fingers in the air To the billionaires I lit a smoke in hopes it blows Underneath their nose And they choke On the words They hold in their throats In their eyes I'm a scumbag But in mine I'm not half bad I can't hide And when they decide I'm a scumbag Well I don't mind Here's where we divide See things from different sides Seen in different times Lived in my own life Lived underneath lies All I see are boys Walk in and out of bottle brothels Disguised as liquor stores My hands are shaky I'm the fucking bum Who begs for change at the door And their eyes scream ice-cream I scream Don't wait up for us you cheap little whore The boys are getting lit So I pull the brim of my cap down And puff past them on another walk Through a neon billboard boulevard pasted in arrangement Sloppily as fuck To feel as if I need their version of shit Like I ain't broke enough as a fucking bum And now I'm begging for change Out front of the bar Where the girls just dance on tabletops And their titties jiggle As the coins dribble in drips From the tip of some drunk cunts crutch Crucify me if I'm wrong Coz I'm a martyr I'll be strung up But I don't need a cross I just need a buck or a bud Or someone to give me a hug And the amber torch traffic lights fade out Into the sunlit room And the spotlight turns To all the red light boys In their sports cars With some thing big to prove Does anyone else notice That when the sunroofs down They all wear matching suits Their glint and glaze in my eyes Is double vision And it just seems like proof That these glutinous pigs feed off of us And make us eat from their crumbs And smoke their fucking ciggy butts Like I'm ok with a life of hazy maybes Where the only time anyone really opens up Is for a handout Or to rip me off And they bust their nuts All on the chins of the bankrupt bums With corrupt uppercuts So fuck these coin sluts I'll sing songs on the side of this street Underneath their neon signs That beg me to feast When I ain't even got enough for a feed And I ain't hungry either I lay back on that bed of cardboard and paper That reads something ironic about immigration The homeless art installation An aboriginal man without a home in his own nation Lays his bed back in the train station Walked by by the monday men like pavement And I look wasted