You don’t Care
I don’t have any pride, it died when I
pawned my god damn ring. You tell
me that ain’t right and I almost faint
when you say, I’m not your friend
and can’t even spend the night.
Baby, I say absurd things, like, you know
what suffering’s like from needles, and poison,
gas. You’ll go back to Chicago if you mistreat
me one more time and you’ll never find any gold
in their stinking cattle yards.
You tried to put me down, but I turned the tide.
Call me to ball when you’re feeling lowdown,
cause I’m not going door to door along the shore,
or through the woods searching for an invitation
from your heart that I’ve already got.
That’s all right if your greed uses up all my
empty cups. I’m your priceless friend to the end
because you got the buzz that I need. I’ll sell
another ring hiding behind my door, so I don’t have
to worry about your pride, envy or greed.
When I’m walking on down the street, my poor
heart skips a beat and I’ll never look again, until
I get that bad, bad feeling that in the name of love,
tears roll from the doorway of my heart, making it
stop when I don’t receive costly repairs and you don’t
care that it’s the end.