Got a bottle for a wife, a cardboard box for a home,
a Safeway cart for a limousine and a dumpster for my gourmet restaurant,
that's all I want.
So don't you call me homeboy, I got me the homeless blues.
In the wintertime I shiver, in summer I just shrug,
my hist'ry's in a duffle bag and my future's in a jug, of wine
and that's all fine.
But don't you call me homeboy, I got me the homeless blues.
I was born on Three Mlle Island, my schoolin' was the street,
my first girl was a puppy dog, but I never once admit defeat,
I'm just too beat.
Just don't you call me homeboy, I got me the homeless blues.
My shoes are from a dead man, my clothes are all Goodwill,
ain't got a pot to piss in, but I never had to kill, a man,
Don't think I can,
So don't you call me homeboy, I got me the homeless blues.
I never had a real job, you may think that's a shame,
but I don't get no junk mail, Ed McMahon never came, to call,
You all,
Now don't you call me homeboy, I got me the homeless blues.
Some folks the fall on hard times, I just fall on my face,
There's some that's "disenfranchised," but I'm just a disgrace, they say,
But what the hay...
Don't you call me homeboy, I got me the homeless blues.