Beggars Parade

(albüm: Working My Way Back To You - 1965)

Tell me who's good and who's bad
Tell me who's happy and who's sad
Then go line 'em up to march in the parade
Who needs the truth? Feed 'em lies
They're all hungry for alibis
Oh they're all the same
Bowery bum, banker's son
Beat the drum, here they come
Banker's son, bowery bum

Your skin is thin, mine is too
What's so special about you?
Make excuses 'cause you just can't make the grade
Look in the mirror, yeah, it's true
Pitiful soul that's you
Oh, they're all the same
Bowery bum, banker's son
Beat the drum, here they come
Banker's son, bowery bum

Hungry for bread, plant a seed
Satisfy your evil greed
No, you'd rather collect that unemployment check
Why should you work, like the rest
When it's easier to protest?
Oh, you're all the same
Bowery bum, banker's son
Beat the drum, here they come
Banker's son, bowery bum

(Beggar's Parade) Talking 'bout a
(Beggar's Parade) Oh, Everybody's in a
(Beggar's Parade) No, you can't get out of
(Beggar's Parade) Keep marching in a
(Beggar's Parade) Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh