THREE-PENNY OPERA

Let me try to explain this...

Who would be a poor man, a beggar, a thief -- like me
if he were a rich man?

When you're poor...
You try to hold on to every little penny..
And every little penny counts...
So if you miss one or two,
You gotta make a tantrum...
Because it's all you can do...

When you're rich...
If you miss a penny or two...
it doesn't matter... who cares?
it's just a different way of life...

So, I'm sitting on a park bench --
Watching pretty girls with bad intent.
Snots running down my nose --
Greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes.
Drying in the cold sun --
Watching as the frilly panties run.
Feeling like a dead duck --
Spitting out pieces of my broken luck.

Sun streaking cold --
I'm an old man wandering lonely.
Taking time the only way I know.
Leg hurting bad,
as I bend to pick a dog-end --
I go down to the bog and warm my feet.

Feeling alone --
The Army's up the road,
Salvation a la mode and a cup of tea.