I Don’t Belong Here (Positively Grant Street)

What am I doing here in this place?
Cigar smoke blown into my face
Made to feel like a fucking disgrace
My so-called friends leave me displaced
Among the phony's and their lines
Imported beer, designer wines
And do I like the new design?
It’s driving me out of my mind
The expression on my face is
Cold and stony

Invited for the sake of form
The people watch with looks of scorn
Some of ‘em wish I was never born
And even the drunk that mopes and mourns
Is about a million times more
Welcome than I am through that door
It’s about image and nothing more
And not even my sweet Lenore
Could convince me it was anything
Else but phony

The chain-linked circles lock me out
The social scene, the verbal joust
You’ll get your way, you’ll moan and pout
It all leaves me without a doubt
The glittered sparkled make-up eyes
Of deepest blue they can’t disguise
the thinly veiled threats and lies
the hostility behind your eyes
The unspoken warning that the
Cat’s got claws

And “he said”, “she said” let’s take sides
The petty squabbles and the cries
And though their brain cells might be fried
Even the junkies have their pride
And I’m not here to get involved
I don’t even think Sherlock Holmes could solve
The mysteries of those who are so devolved
And yeah I got a lot of resolve
But don’t ask for my opinion if all you really want
Is to hear yours

How did I get mixed up in this?
The brightly coloured curb-side mist
and broken glass and flowing piss
The lovers locked in deadly tryst
The blood red tint across the moon
The endless loop, the same old tunes
The fiery ashen scream comes soon
I wanna retreat to my cocoon
And act just like nothing
Even happened.

But what’s the use in trying to run?
They got me trapped they’ve already won,
There ain’t no knife, no sword, nor gun
No shield to save me from the sun
Of painful glaring bright white eyes
That pierce the soul and condemn the mind
And leave you stripped naked and blind
A coiled spring you can’t unwind
So stay on your toes and don’t let ‘em
Catch you nappin’

How am I gonna get outta this rut?
Surrounded by these hungry sluts
And this one looks like Jabba the Hutt,
And the scar on my hand from the cigarette butt
That you stabbed me with in your drunken haze
And the fevered sweat in the dancer’s cage
And the boys are going along with the craze
In the desperate hope they might get laid
And the mother’s all sit at home and pray
That their kids have been taught well enough to stay
Out of trouble and wear coats ‘case it rains
But if only they knew that there is no way
That the kids are ever gonna do anything else but act stupid
They’re barely lucid