[spoken] ok
The moon is fat and lazy.
Me, I'm just down and out.
The streets are ??? and crazy with shoppers speedin' about.
And horses draggin' tourists around the neighborhood.
Those damned kids' ghetto blasters are destroyin' the mood.
The feeling found by using their imagination.
Imagination, ain't it beautiful, man?

I wandered into a hall, a back door.
I sit in the corner and watch sweat dance on the floor.
The band breaks my heart, the music barks at my chest,
I want to touch somebody but all I've got are cigarettes.
I need a light if I'm gonna fight resignation.
Resignation, ain't it sensible, man?

Sometimes I get the feeling and it's creeping up, precious.
The past comes back to get ya like a face-masked rapist.
But you want to put a bullet or a foot in your mouth,
You're still trying to blow your brains out.
So I'm leaving.
'Cause I can't stand the feeling, hesitation.
Hesitation, run for your life if you can.

I'm the beautiful lost loser with a chip in his mouth.
But I'm too lowly to scrape, dig or spit it out.
They say you better diet, brush and floss and exercise,
but plaque or no plaque, we're all gonna die.
And weeble-wobbles don't fall down,
they just get kicked around waiting for...
Waiting for jubilation.
Jubilation, but me I'm just down and out.
Jubilation, but me I'm just down and out.
Just down and out.
Just down and out of it.

Lyrics submitted by shewouldnt

Ghetto Blaster song meanings
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