The traffic lights are red for the honest man He can wait or he can gable but it may not go to plan Pounding on the door of life's lucky breaks But your efforts are in vain because the doorman's on the take
A man in a black coat and a pigskin cap Looks up to his saviour and asks where it's at And he says "There is no place more sacred than where you stand"
So stand up
An old lady gets on the bus with a pale faced voice Looks around at all the sitters and she carefully makes her choice Sits next to me holding her handbag up close Keeps her eye on the one she fears the most
A man in a black coat and a pigskin cap Looks up to his saviour and asks where it's at And he says "There is no place more sacred than where you stand"
So stand up
I'm sick of being sold things I already own Like a redskin indian who had to buy back his home The rabbi can teach what the bagman can't sell But in this ramshackle world It's time to ring them bells No one is freeborn and nowhere unzoned
A man in a black coat and a pigskin cap Looks up to his saviour and asks where it's at