Boys from the street, slum childs come in here together Boots wrapped in rope and wire And black hands in cold leather But I am not one of them. No, I am not one of them But they all know me by name. They all know me by name Men in the aisles, closed eyes and gold dust on their fingers They say soon God will come, so hold your tongue Don't let your vices linger They say Elijah was carried off, Caught up in a chariot made of flame So we too will ride in cars that shine If you name it, it's yours to claim But I am not one of them. No, I am not one of them But they all know me by name. They all know me by name Girls from the corner, coming from the Corinthian Quarters That's my place on Jackson The Preacher and the Politician, the Working Man They come looking to me, they come asking I know soon God will come and even if I run His horsemen bound to find me He'll ask me why I've done the things I've done And I'll tell Him you made the mouths I feed And I'll say, I am not one of them I am not one of them But He'll turn to me and say, Oh, I don't know you by name! No, I don't know you by name! And I'll think to myself, You never did make known to me Your ways