when yer down stay down, but then what do i know

just a clown in this town, so then where do i go ?

any blade of grass, wind’ll bend ya down at last



when your luck’s run out, n they don’t know you 

n yer left with no doubt, what does that show you ?

n like any piece of trash, wind’ll easily roll ya passed 



n if you don't know, why should i tell you

n where will you go, is what they sell you

like any old piece of sky, the wind’ll easily pass ya by 



when you ever gonna 

     come back home

     quit yer roamin

     get me alone