Strange Days
A midday stroll through Central Park
Vampires sleep while waiting for dark
Captain Jack appears from a garbage campground
He sings some songs about the days of glory
Then offers up his whole life story
Lights a cigarette and asks if I’m ok
He talks about the friends that he watched die
The wife and child that he had to leave behind
Holding back tears, he should have cried
Strange days, strange, strange days
Strange days that we live in
Strange days, strange, strange days
It’s three to five if your junkie crack poor
A slap on the wrist if it’s clean white snow
If your daddy’s rich he can clean the whole mess up
While the lines grow longer for government soup
The players in Washington flew the coop
TV world watches one more city fry
Voices sing from the homeless shelter choir
Businessmen warm their hands by a hobo’s fire
Politicians swimming in the mire
Strange days, strange, strange days
Strange days that we live in
Strange days, strange, strange days
Sam lost his job when times got hard
His wife and kids the house and car
But he’s still got his porn and a 92-inch screen
We cry, we bitch, we moan all day while drowning in our apathy
Seems no-ones willing to fight for one dam thing
Their trying not to come undone
While waiting for the chosen one
To save the weary children of the sun
Strange days we live in
Strange days that we live in
Strange days, strange, strange days
