(brooker / reid)*      The landlord's knocking on my door, he says he wants the rent   I'm sitting in the kitchen wondering where the money's spent   A whole lot of people treating me unkind   I seem to have the blues most all the time      I'm lying in my bed hatching million-dollar schemes   The cops are using radar trying to intercept my dreams   A whole lot of people treating me unkind   I seem to have the blues most all the time      I went to get a job 'cos I badly needed the pay   I got a warm reception: they said 'bum! go away!'   A whole lot of people treating me unkind   I seem to have the blues most all the time      Well I owed a lot of money; I was weak and easily led   I tried to rob a bank: the cashier shot me dead   A whole lot of people treating me unkind   But it don't matter now, 'cos I got peace of mind   Nothing matters now 'cos I got peace of mind.