As the old man takes the stage in a run down pub in the bad end of town,
he trys to figure out why no one will applaud his song,
so he picks up one steel tube, and a cheap guitar,
drops another ciggerette to the floor and goes to drown his sorrows at the bar.

And he thinks to himself I gotta get out of this place,
it's just doing me no good,
but he's so confused and bemused by his whole intake,
all he's left with is his drink, some how he'll make ends meet.

In a world thats made of paranoid,
he can't progress, he's unable to avoid,
needs significant things to come his way,
some how with a debt to society,
still unimpressed with the way things turned out,
he had such big plans, he had such big plans.

Lyrics submitted by Psychedeliasmith

Mr. Mischief song meanings
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