Friday night at the “mission”
Line’s long tonight,
Someone’s supposed to sing for us after the preachin’ session.
Nothin’ clean to wear,
I smell like the rotten potatoes i couldn’t bring myself to eat.
Last week I couldn’t make it to the laundry in time
And every stinkin’ Joe on the street seemed to be in line for the showers.
Ah, the hell with it.
I’ll find a filthy sink somewhere tonight,
the station down the road turns a blind eye when I wash up in their men’s.
Too many jokers in this town,
Time to move on.