It's a tough time to be a street musician with a nine hundred pound piano.
If you have to go and busk/from the dawn until the dusk/pick your props with proper care/lest you wind up in wheelchair/You'll never have a good stagehand/to lug around your baby grand.
Shootings have soared; is the NYPD pulling back?
IN New York the cops are slow/to enforce the lawful flow/So if you are mugged, too bad/ The cops will tell you it's a fad/then go on their merry way/sleeping while the crooks make hay.
Colin Powell Still Wants Answers.
Many are the folk bereaved/since Colin Powell was first deceived/With bogus intel he began/a never ending battle plan/that still is gutting ten years out/Americans like speckled trout.
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