Government Center

Caught the twelve thirty from ashmont station

32 ounces with the rum mixed in

God knows I need it with the way I've been living

Self medicated, chemical salvation

Afternoon show up at central station

When the music hits I don't feel no pain

Now I'm outside in the cold again trying to find my way

The sun is setting in the combat zone

The streets are empty all the bars are closed

And I'm walking thru government center

Trying to find my way back home

Dodging the cops at the ATMs

Three third hand suits and a record collection

From late night raids on the salvation army bins

Whatever god I pray to must be broke as me

Got a busted 4 track and a dead end job

Up at the downs on friday trying to make it pay off

On a twelve to one, but I got shut out

Man I'd be late to my own fuckin' funeral

Read the headlines passing out of town news

Says the world is still fucked and run by fools

And it don't seem to matter which drugs you use

It still turns out the same

This record spins the same old song

The speaker's blown and the needle's worn

Don't matter nothing in the end

They say when you leave

You can never go home again.