My car broke down in Arizona, have to Ride the bus again, at ten-o-clock on Tuesday night, with thirteen cents and a Broken pen. I put my backpack on the Bench, tell two people I don't smoke, See the cop across the street, he thinks That I am selling dope, I could have Walked another block, to get away from The scene. Why does it always come to This, where zero meets fifteen? And so I gave my thirteen cents, to the Man who peed his pants. He passes out And falls on me, I watch my change fall From his hand. I see the lady next to Me, holds her baby black blue. The junkie gutter-punks keeps asking, Where I got my new tattoo. What does It matter anyway, thirteen cents or all I Own? How can I ever save the world, On cup-o-soup and student loans? I want to try and save the world, but it Never goes that way. God I don't know what to do, down at Colfax and Broadway. Now the man with no shoes on, says I Don't know how to play. He says I Fumble all the time. He thinks that I am John Elway. I put my face down in my Hands, water wells inside my eyes. What do I have to give them? Does it Matter if I try? I can't stand to see you Suffer, I try to intellectualize, a formula To end you pain, it doesn't work, God Knows I've tried. Sometimes my cup is overfilled. Sometimes I'm too afraid that I'm going to spill.