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Junk Bond Trader

The imitation picks you up like a habit

Writing in the glow of the TV static

Taking out the trash to the man

Give the people something they understandMistake a nervous flash for a fine-line smile

Junk bond trader trying to sell a sucker a style

Rich man in a poor man's clothes

The permanent installment of the daily doseAnd you tell me, "Fool", you tell it like it is

Your wall's gone wider than your head trip is

Checking into a small reality

Void as a drug you take too regularlyThe athlete's laugh, the broken crutch

The first true love folded at the slightest touch

Brought down like an old hotel

People digging through the rubble for things they can resell"Happy holidays", said, sick savior

The leaving lover I still favor

I won't take your medicine

I don't need a remedyTo be everything I'm supposed to be

I don't want nobody else

I can do it by myself

We're meant to be togetherNow, I'm a policeman directing traffic

Keeping everything moving, everything static

I'm the hitch-hiker you recognize passing

On your way to some everlastingBetter sell it while you can

Better sell it while you can

Better sell it while you can

Better sell it while you can

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