Buck 65 - Riverbed 3 lyrics
[Buck 65 - Riverbed 3 lyrics]
There's people living in
The neighboring barges
Guilty of assorted compliments and charges
Like the one eyed cyclist
Who never wears socks
He covers his mouth with his
Hand when he talks
His name is Rene, they say he is a communist
There is something about his
Demeanor that's ominous
Gord with his card tricks
Escaped from the row
His mouth is always in the shape of an O
His brother is locked up and
He await's his release
He talks about politics and hates the police
Linda doesn't have long to live probably
She's wiccan and used to read
Palms for a hobby
She came to visit one night
And just sat there
And laughed the whole time
Her clothes covered in cat hair
Aubrey wears two watches at once
And a bow tie
He is missing a thumb and nobody knows why
He's not the best ventriloquist in the world
But he wants to be
He's an excellent dancer and
Smokes reefer constantly
Big, fat Nigel works as a florist
He's openly gay and looks like a tourist
He's very polite with a good sense of humor
He's heir to a fortune or
At least that's the rumor
Washed up and wounded, we are the recycled
Earthy, thirsty, sleazy and seaworthy
At the foot of the trees the
Tramps drink and they day dream
They use the fountain to stay clean
They're not as bad as they may seem
Each day they reenact the ritual of abandon
They sit there and serenade people at random
As the thought of a job
And a bedroom refrigerates
They drift on alcoholic
Wings in figure-eights
Wine and water, regarded as stupid weirdos
More wine and water
They feel like superheroes
One once was a boxer
Whose ego remains bandaged
He once took a beating that
Left him with brain damage
One plays a horn and was
Born with a wooden leg
He plays on some days cause he
Feels that he shouldn't beg
One worked in the factory
Before it closed down
He's fine if there's plenty of
Wine to go around
Sunken and drunken, frustrated and lonely
These people don't die, they evaporate slowly
No matter how desperate
No matter how lawless
They rely on the river for
Some kind of solace
It sings to the softly and
Lulls them to sleep heavily
It's soothing and every bit heavenly
Each morning before they get into the booze
As they say
They usually give me the news of the day
And if it were up to
Them to shout the decision
An aurora borealis and all men out of prison
The neighboring barges
Guilty of assorted compliments and charges
Like the one eyed cyclist
Who never wears socks
He covers his mouth with his
Hand when he talks
His name is Rene, they say he is a communist
There is something about his
Demeanor that's ominous
Gord with his card tricks
Escaped from the row
His mouth is always in the shape of an O
His brother is locked up and
He await's his release
He talks about politics and hates the police
Linda doesn't have long to live probably
She's wiccan and used to read
Palms for a hobby
She came to visit one night
And just sat there
And laughed the whole time
Her clothes covered in cat hair
Aubrey wears two watches at once
And a bow tie
He is missing a thumb and nobody knows why
He's not the best ventriloquist in the world
But he wants to be
He's an excellent dancer and
Smokes reefer constantly
Big, fat Nigel works as a florist
He's openly gay and looks like a tourist
He's very polite with a good sense of humor
He's heir to a fortune or
At least that's the rumor
Washed up and wounded, we are the recycled
Earthy, thirsty, sleazy and seaworthy
At the foot of the trees the
Tramps drink and they day dream
They use the fountain to stay clean
They're not as bad as they may seem
Each day they reenact the ritual of abandon
They sit there and serenade people at random
As the thought of a job
And a bedroom refrigerates
They drift on alcoholic
Wings in figure-eights
Wine and water, regarded as stupid weirdos
More wine and water
They feel like superheroes
One once was a boxer
Whose ego remains bandaged
He once took a beating that
Left him with brain damage
One plays a horn and was
Born with a wooden leg
He plays on some days cause he
Feels that he shouldn't beg
One worked in the factory
Before it closed down
He's fine if there's plenty of
Wine to go around
Sunken and drunken, frustrated and lonely
These people don't die, they evaporate slowly
No matter how desperate
No matter how lawless
They rely on the river for
Some kind of solace
It sings to the softly and
Lulls them to sleep heavily
It's soothing and every bit heavenly
Each morning before they get into the booze
As they say
They usually give me the news of the day
And if it were up to
Them to shout the decision
An aurora borealis and all men out of prison