Rich Man Poor Man

Coloured television sets, soft music and cigarettes
You can go to church on Sunday, you can go to work on Monday, you can go to heaven someday
Sherry glasses and picture halls, starched white shirts and telephone calls, well hello
Plastic pigs on windowsills, gas, electric, telephone bills
Pretty little kitchen, pretty little policeman, pretty little spaceman
Wanna be a rich man, wanna be a poor man, wanna be a beggar man, wanna be a thief
I seem to find it, I seem to mind it, I seem to mind you
I seem to find you looking down that empty road that way
Nothing more and nothing new to do or say
Must turn your head and go your own way
Coloured television sets, soft music and cigarettes, well hello
Sherry glasses and picture halls, starched white shirts and telephone calls, well hello
Plastic pigs on windowsills, gas, electric, telephone bills
Pretty little kitchen, pretty little policeman, pretty little spaceman
Wanna be a rich man, wanna be a poor man, wanna be a beggar man, wanna be a thief
I seem to find it, I seem to mind it, I seem to mind you
I seem to find you looking down that empty road that way
Nothing more and nothing new to do or say
Must turn your head and go your own way
You write your songs, you play your songs to the woodworm
Lie on the floor, let your head get sore
You write your poems upon the walls of the foghouse
The only way you speak is through your graffiti
Your spirit hands dig holes in words and they love to
Your face is growing long, barely touching the ground
Your whitewashed eyes don't work the same as they used to
Now you're seeing things in shades of grey and blue
La-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la
La-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la