Blackout, heat wave, .44 caliber homicide
The buns drop dead and dogs go mad
In packs on the West Side
Young girl standing on a ledge looks like another suicide

She wants to hit those bricks
´Cause the news at six gotta stick to a deadline
While the millionaires hide in Beekman Place
The bag ladies throw their bones in my face
I get attacked by a kid with stereo sound
I don´t want to hear it but he won´t turn it down
Life is tough but it´s just enough
To hold back the tears until it´s closing time
I survived, I´m still alive
But I´m getting close to the borderline
Close to the borderline

A buck three eighty
Won´t buy you much lately on the street these days
And when you can get gas
You know you can´t drive fast anymore on the parkways
Rich man, poor man, either way American

Shoved into the lost and found
The no nuke yell we´re gonna all go to hell
With the next big meltdown
I got remote control and a color TV
I don´t change channels so they must change me
I got real close friends that will get me high
They don´t know how to talk and they ain´t gonna try
I shouldn´t bitch, I shouldn´t cry
I´d start a revolution but I don´t have time
I don´t know why I´m still a nice guy
But I´m getting close to the borderline
Close to the borderline

I thought I´d sacrifice so many things
I thought I´d throw them all away
I didn´t think I needed anything
But you can´t afford to squander what you´re not prepared to pay

I need a doctor for my pressure pills
I need a lawyer for my medical bills
I need a banker to finance my home
I need security to back my loan
It isn´t new what I´m going through
But everybody knows you got to break sometime
Another night I fought the good fight
But I´m getting closer to the borderline
Closer to the borderline