|
Beneath the trees of the Casbah |
|
Beneath the roots of those trees |
|
On the casket floor |
|
On the casket floor |
|
Bottom of me, it feels so complete |
|
Around my childhood museums |
|
There stand Chinese guards |
|
One of them has a bell |
|
One of them has a bell |
|
Who rings when I come too close or leave too far |
|
You might say that it's reckless, you might say that it's wild |
|
But I'd rather be nobody's man than somebody's child |
|
Now there's splinters in my fingers |
|
And there's Portland cement in my lungs |
|
I got a hammer and a cough |
|
I got a hammer and a cough and |
|
All of my friends speak in foreign tongues |
|
There's an ugliness growing up inside me |
|
From where it has come I don't know |
|
I left my sweetness beside |
|
My sweetness beside |
|
That girl I goodbyed long ago |
|
They might find my body at the bottom of the pile |
|
But I'd rather be nobody's man than somebody's child |
|
Such plans they have, such gods they have |
|
Deep in this nation of heat |
|
We've been outdone again |
|
We've been outdone again and |
|
All of my friends they walk on their feet |
|
And a congress of jackals will put a tax on my smile |
|
But I'd rather be nobody's man than somebody's child |
|
I might move to Las Vegas, live there for a while |
|
'Cause I'd rather be nobody's, nobody's, nobody's |
|
Yes I'd rather be nobody's man than somebody's child |
