Indiana Toll Road OR acoustic version
by Steven Clotzman
There’s a man on a street, he’s got no dough.
To the ladies and the gentlemen he’s just a sideshow.
Some say he’s a menace to the air they breathe,
Say there ain’t nothing that he wants or needs.
Got a full head of hair, a pretty good tan,
A shopping cart of aluminum cans.
But he ain’t got a friend to help with this load
And he ain't got enough to ride the toll road.
They say he’s a sinner ‘cause his clothes aren’t clean,
Says he gets drunk off gasoline.
And they tell him that he’s lazy ‘cause he’d rather beg than steal
Or sell his mama’s soul for a nice warm meal.
So he lives off the garbage that other folks make,
That the kids don’t eat, that the dogs don’t take
And it ain't their problem as well he should know
‘Cause he ain’t got enough to ride the toll road.
He’s tells them that he’s Jesus but they just don’t care.
Most turn away, others give him hard stares,
A few beat him down to prove that he’s not.
He’s got a mouth full of dirt and nose full of snot.
But he might be the heir to a millionaire,
Whose daddy got mad and now he don’t care.
Or he may be a gambler, you never really know,
Who bet all his money and the horse didn’t even show.
Why should it be worse to lose what you have
Than to be born with nothing but the cross on you back?
He’s got a long list of debts of all that he’s owed
But he ain’t got enough to ride the toll road.
They tell him he should go but he don’t know where.
Got to get himself some work but he hasn't got a prayer
‘Cause to ride that road without delay
Money’s not enough, you’ve got to have exact change.
Now most won’t care what he has or hasn’t done
When they roll him for his shoes just for fun.
And he’s trapped in a box, it gets smaller each day
And he can’t hardly remember it any other way.
When the cops pick him up, they’ll frisk him on down,
Take him in the car to the outskirts of town
But it ain’t gonna matter, where’s gonna go
If he ain’t got enough to ride the toll road?