The traffic lights are red for the honest man
He can wait or he can gable but it
may not go to plan
Pounding on the door of life's lucky breaks
But your efforts are in vain because the
doorman's on the take
A man in a black coat and a pigskin cap
Looks up to his saviour and asks where it's at
And he says "There is no place more sacred than where you stand"
So stand up
An old lady gets on the bus with a
pale faced voice
Looks around at all the sitters and she
carefully makes her choice
Sits next to me holding her handbag up close
Keeps her eye on the one she fears the most
A man in a black coat and a pigskin cap
Looks up to his saviour and asks where it's at
And he says "There is no place more sacred than where you stand"
So stand up
I'm sick of being sold things
I already own
Like a redskin indian who had to
buy back his home
The rabbi can teach what the bagman
can't sell
But in this ramshackle world
It's time to ring them bells
No one is freeborn
and nowhere unzoned
A man in a black coat and a pigskin cap
Looks up to his saviour and asks where it's at