Clean Up Your Own Backyard - Chromeo Remix

Back porch preacher preaching at me
Acting like he wrote the golden rule
Shaking his fist and screeching at me
Shouting from his soap box like a fool
Come Sunday morning he's lying in bed
His eyes all red from the wine in his head
Wishing he was dead
When he'd never get hit
With one of Sunday's kids

Clean up your own backyard
Oh, don't you hand me none of your lines
Clean up your own backyard
You tend to your business, I'll tend to mine
Clean up your own backyard
Oh, don't you hand me none of your lines
Clean up your own backyard
You tend to your business, I'll tend to mine

Drugstore cowboy criticizing
Acting like he's better than you and me
Standing on the sidewalk supervising
Telling everybody how they ought to be
Come closing time most every night
He locks up tight and not go to lights
And he ducks out of sight
And he cheats on his wife
With his employees

Clean up your own backyard
Oh, don't you hand me, don't you hand me none of your lines
Clean up your own backyard
You tend to your business, I'll tend to mine

Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister
Clean it up, mister