Blackout, heatwave, .44 caliber homicide   The buns drop dead and dogs go mad   In packs on the West Side   Young girl standing on a ledge looks like another suicide   She wants to hit those bricks   'Cause the news at six gotta stick to a deadline   While the millionaires hide in Beekman Place   The bag ladies throw their bones in my face   I get attacked by a kid with stereo sound   I don't want to hear it but he won't turn it down   Life is tough but it's just enough   To hold back the tears until it's closing time   I survived, I'm still alive   But I'm getting close to the borderline   Close to the borderline      A buck three eighty   Won't buy you much lately on the street these days   And when you can get gas   You know you can't drive fast anymore on the parkways   Rich man, poor man, either way American   Shoved into the lost and found   The no nuke yell we're gonna all go to hell   With the next big meltdown   I got remote control and a color T.V.   I don't change channels so they must change me   I got real close friends that will get me high   They don't know hot to talk and they ain't gonna try   I shouldn't bitch, I shouldn't cry   I'd start a revolution but I don't have time   I don't know why I'm still a nice guy   But I'm getting close to the borderline   Close to the borderline      I thought I'd sacrifice so many things   I thought I'd throw them all away   I didn't think I needed anything   But you can't afford to squander what you're not prepared to pay      I need a doctor for my pressure pills   I need a lawyer for my medical bills   I need a banker to finance my home   I need security to back my loan   It isn't new what I'm going through   But everybody knows you got to break sometime   Another night I fought the good fight   But I'm getting closer to the borderline   Closer to the borderline.