There's a broken heel on the runway
Old money at the Hampton's brunch
There's an alarm clock ringing on a hot night
And a time card waiting to be punched
Lying there on the dirty little futon
Mixed up with the overdue bills
There's a dirty little orange plastic bottle
With the last few dirty little pills
For those who have little and those who have less
For those who have little and those who have less
Like ghosts on the deck of the Mary Celeste
Are those who have little and those who have less
It's a quarter till dawn in the dim light
With already a mighty long queue
To breathe the air in the factory
Sowing up two under-dollar shoes
Like polar bears pacing in cages
And sweet shop cinnamon smell
The white neon lights always blazing
Nowhere to hide in this white neon hell
For those who have little and those who have less
For those who have little and those who have less
Like ghosts on the deck of the Mary Celeste
Are those who have little and those who have less
From the guilty jury's guilty verdict
To the guilty judge who let him swing
From my date in court at ten tomorrow
To the surprise that I just might bring
From the old skin that I'm slowly shedding
To the faith that somehow won't die
There are only two ways of us kicking
And only one I'm gonna try
For those who have little and those who have less
For those who have little and those who have less
Like ghosts on the deck of the Mary Celeste
Are those who have little and those who have less
Less