Red and gray sky, bricks and stones... down on Harvard Avenue

like a desert near a combat zone... I have got the Allston boneyard blues

Students, winos, taxi drivers... walking wounded and survivors

buzzing around the old beehive... I want more than just to stay alive

Sitting down at the Tower of Pizza... drinking coffee by the hour

the jukebox plays Heart Full of Soul... I hear the words but I can't feel the power


'cause I'm flat broke... in objectivity land again

I'm flat broke... in objectivity land


I walked down to Uncle Milton's place... I was hoping for some dinner

He said "Mr. Nixon, stuff your face... you'll disappear if you get any thinner"

Me and Migo, Doug and Chip... we were staying at the dugout

Red was here but he just flipped... I'd visit him but I keep spacing out

Well, I got my eyes and I got my words... and I got my teen from the suburbs

I gave her my mind but she wanted my soul... I was afraid that I might lose control


'cause I'm flat broke... in objectivity land again

I'm flat broke... in objectivity land


Mo Digliani