Meager Means #2

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The Paris Buns

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Tape up the windows, keep the heat that's left inside
Light the remnants of a candle, let the flame grow bright
Open up another can of corn for the evening feast
If I play my cards right, I can make it last all week
Adjust the antenna for better reception
Fill this starving soul with tales of sorrow and deception
Tell myself, "At least it ain't so bad"

Hop on the bus, out of sight, through the back
Take it all the way downtown, join the friendly pack
Of folks all bundled up in every article of clothing that they own
All of them without a paycheck, some without a home

Play the usual games for a fistful of bills
Gotta make more than the last guy in a test of wills
Gotta stretch these single dollars as far out as they will go
When will they snap? I don't wanna know

And the folks all walking by have learned not to notice
Pushing down the pity that always wants to rise
But I can smell it in the air, in the wind on my back
Flying free, chasing me

Bills fill the mailbox, another late fee warning
Ain't got checks to send collectors, I'll deal with it in the morning
Waiting for the day when they finally pull the plug
These belts are growing tighter, I can feel the tug

Dream of changing my name and skipping town
They'll tear up this old rat hole, they'll flip it upside down
With my fourth from last dollar I will figure out somehow
To turn my lack of fortune all the way around

And the creditors can sic their dogs on my trail
But they'll never find me when I change my form
Smiling with a new face, with the wind on my back
Flying free, where nothing can chase me

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