You found a carousel to ride around
But you get bored, so you tear it down
Like a kid in a playground, putting sand in their mouth
Spit it out, when you're feeling fickle
And I want to say it shouldn't work that way
People's lives ain't a game, just 'cause you can pay
Smoking your big fat cigar
Tweed hat, cravat and four birds on your arm

I'm just a tin pan boy, do you want to take that toy?
Hey, you, Mr. Developer
Hey, you, Mr. Developer
You're just a tin town toy, a big fat boy
Hey, you, Mr. Inheritor
Crook, hook, Mr. Proprietor (boy)

You kick the small kid off the monkey bars
Take your mess out of his specs and the size of his arm
Force him to dress in black, then make him hold your holster
Whilst you shoot him in the back (back)
You will say I'm only writing songs
Son, get off of your ass and get a proper job
And snigger at my beat-up boots
But I tell you, Sir, I'm coming after you in fiction

I'm just a tin pan boy, please, don't take my toys
Hey, you, Mr. Developer
Hey, you, Mr. Developer
You're just a tin town toy, a big fat boy
Hey, you, Mr. Inheritor, Mr. Proprietor (boy)

I'm just a tin pan boy, 'cause they take my toys
Hey, hey
You're just a tin town toy, a big fat boy
Hey, hey, boy