A Never Been

Singing the same tune
Only half of what he thinks
been so long since he burned out
he's cut out all drinks

but he's always there behind the scenes
with something harsh to say
always there with a tambourine
working his cliche

i wonder how he sleeps at night, he's a sad man
i wonder if his head is right, he's a bad man

he's a man, who never had it made
with a repetoir of come on lines,
and a scoping eye for needy girls to lay

Got the whole ensemble down
Transplanted from sixty-two
A snapshot of old downtown
with a modern twist or two

and he's always pointing how much he knows
so he can have something to say
in a uniform of beat up clothes
and a tattered old beret

i wonder how he sleeps at night, he's a sad man
i wonder if his head is right, he's a bad man

he's a man, who never had it made
with a repetoir of come on lines,
and a scoping eye for needy girls to lay

i wonder what road he passed
to end up such a fool
how much damage from the past
made him such a tool

he's so bitter and he never seems alive
he's lost his humanity
he's the angry crusty puddle dive
the essence of who i never want to be

i wonder how he sleeps at night, he's a sad man
i wonder if his head is right, he's a bad man

he's a man, who never had it made
with a repetoir of come on lines,
and a scoping eye for needy girls to lay