Faces   Cracked for reason beyond recognition   Uh-huh   His space is   At the Palace, he sleeps for twenty five cents   Uh-huh   Now he's wiping headlights   Windshields with an old rag   It ain't nine to five   Down and dirty, he's an old tramp   He poses like a dead man   The night train passes by      Money's   Not the answer for princes and dancers   Uh-huh      He's standing under street lights   He's thinking of his old life   He lost his pretty young wife   The corner is his big plan   His brunch with Jim and jitters   Boston blue laws ain't for shitters   And newsprint is for cheaters   Cement mattress for believers      A dirty old bum   He's a dirty old bum   He can't say "Yes"   He can't forget it A dirty old bum      Now he's shooting power curves   His buddies think he's got some nerve   Mrs Face had other lovers   Her arms smothered other numbers      He freezes   Christmas season, all saints protect him   Uh-huh   His face is   Cracked for reason beyond recognition   Ah