I'm not angry, I'm a no good piece of shit

I've heard that every day, it just rolls off my back

Left town frustrated, no one to talk to

Alone with the thoughts in my head

People I respect knock me down, so I sit

Like a piece of garbage washed up on the curb

And it's funny in a place where one in ten have no money

You hear one in ten encouraging words

"Yeah, the wise men don't know shit, it's a poor fuck like me

On the streets got it all figured out"

Said an old man, piss drunk on a Wednesday

With a smile from his dirty, toothless mouth

Made me smile and he asked me for a smoke and some change

When a cigarette was all I had to give

And I sat around watching cars

Thinking stupid fucking thoughts about my friends

And my school and my girl and myself

And I wish I could go drinking where no one knew my name

And I didn't know anyone else

I sat alone, bored, accomplishing nothing

Another summer day, more thrown away sunshine

"Now don't get offended and don't curse me out

But I'm starving and I sure could use your dimes"

I looked up at a young man not much older than me

Gave a dollar and a smoke and some time

He said "I fought for Uncle Sam, now he won't fight for me

Threw me out when I was done serving time

I said I wouldn't go into special forces and kill"

He said "Then stay out on the streets and fucking die"

And there's two kinds of prisons, some say

One where you're locked up and everything's outside and the other where you're outside and everything is locked away