Filthy thieving bastards

Phony drunken poet

Filthy thieving bastards
In the last days of September
Winds were blowing down our blocks
Back in town the dead old trees
Rocking ferries and the docks

Bottle Benny drinks a beer
then pissed off the fucking pier
They cursed the god who made the winds
amiss with shoes and socks

(Chorus)
Lend me this month's rent, My dad just bought a round
you'll get your money right before I leave this town
Lend me this month's I'm working underground
claiming all my riches at the lost and found

For a while I was painting houses
In San Francisco coastal lots
In the evening I would drink my wages
on the weekends down the spots

The bartender raved at me
over a lousy cup of tea
"you must be a phony drunken poet
'cause I've fucked all the jocks and cops"

(Chorus)

My dad just needs to get some air
he's underneath the fence

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