I'm turning on the TV, I'm getting the rap.
The guy down the street pushing the crack.
Has no money, but waiting for the plane.
He's not even twenty, but there is not much left for him. You!
In the shadow of skyscrapers.
In the groins of the people fighting on the street.
Oil barrels, flames in the sky.
You're on the square at the age of sixty
Sleeping on a bench in the winter.
I don't recognize you, you were different long ago, I don't recognize you.
You're a robot in this factory,
And the fat people are drinking at the bar.
If I'm thinking of you, I have to vomit,
The bastard gets into his car,
And you don't get anything but the rest!
I don't recognize you, you were different long ago, I don't recognize you.