the papers are in the car, i don't have the car

So I walk the streets naked
asking why I was meant to be
a fatherly figure begs for something to feed
his child in yonder, many miles from here
then I see his elbows flesh
he needs the needle oh dear
I will buy you food, you weak man
but promise me this, that baby, I don't understand
how can you do it to yourself every day and every night
the joint papers in the car
I ain't got no wife

so go tell someone fancy like a prof or politician
who look at their bank account
and lick their lips in transgression
can they wake up every morning believing how far they will go
you father figure man, the needle won't do
I will buy you bread and water and meat
if you promise me one thing, your arm is yours to keep

he jumped at the offer, almost gave me a hug
I want chicken and liver and tacos and more
well my friend, you get what you give
I could just leave you with a smile. or perhaps, a formidable grin
to practice the lifestyle of the one who is within
he jumped at me again, almost swatting a fly
I want whiskey and wine and might as well drink turpentine

this man he whispered so no one could hear
I got all I need and he points to his beard
I believe to wonder the nights since that night
did I give too much or not enough?
this idea keeps me in turmoil even though it is small
it bounces all day and night around my dull skull

So in conclusion, I helped that man out
by buying him chocolate and a leopard skin couch
he's under the bridge somewhere, chuckling away
I still got my sanity is all he can say