You gotta believe me, i'm doing my best I apologize for all the flack i caught for dropping out Yeh you kicked up a storm, but the winds have died down I got a lot of bottles on account of this around I'm sorry i'm not him The poet's right hand The artistic little suffering son-of-a-working-man You work yourself in, but it spits you right out Why is it so hard? I should've run you out of town! If it looks like it is, then it probably ain't The more than you talk the more my interest goes away You work yourself in, but it spits you right out Why is it so hard? I should've run you out of town! I should've run you out of town!