Scatman John: Quiet desperation

Sittin' on a milk crate morning noon and nightFantasizing the American dreamYou're lookin' pretty good and you've got yourselfConvinced that the nightmare ain't as bad as it seemsYou try your best to hide yourself Beneath a turned up collar and a plastic bagIs all you got to showAnd your books inside your shopping cartIs probably the best education that you've ever gonna knowThe guy in the Mercedes just hollared with a dollarBetter grab it cause the signal's turning greenAnd while you're at it put the jug behind the picket fenceBecause the cop that just went by sho'looking meanInstitution, contribution, restitution, destitutionDoesn't mean a thing to you nowYou're the freeway feature film your audience is driving bySo maybe you should stand and take a bow(chorus)You're living in desperation And you never have felt completeYou live in antecipation of another day on the streetSing with meYou're sitting in that same spot you want to go homeBut there ain't no home but home on the rangeYou've forgotten what you look likeAnd it looks like you've forgotten thatThe look inside your eyes is very strangeAin't nothing left to hide You're stripped of all your prideAnd all you feel inside is a hole a mile wideYou're the freeway desperado and a perfect living modelOf a land that hasn't any good excuse(repeat chorus)You're sitting on your milk crateWith your blanket wrapped around youAnd I see you sittin' day after dayI'd really like to talk but I know if I approachedYou'd probably get up and walk awayYou wishing that your home of the American dreamWasn't only smog and exhaustI love you desperado and all I've got to say is You let me know how much I'm really lost(repeat chorus)