Tommy

You ask if we'll cope, can you help, to look after our home, just be a leper, away from the Pen, we've no need for grease, stay out of our zone, you might mean well, but we're better alone, don't wrap us in sheets, measure our chrome, we know these streets, we roll with the blow, on bar stools and weather, our skin needing soap, a long gait and knees, we are not lepers, laughing through our broken teeth, throw away your rope, don't stand there bereft, our pockets might need hope, but there's always heaven.