Alan کے بول

There's a man Hanging by his pants-seat While the moon Is hanging over 4th street People stop and look at him They think they understand They know that you're loaded and you're crazy And they think you're stupid You can trust me I'm your best friend Now's the time to leave Before he breaks your nose Rips your clothes Makes you bleed It's okay I've got money for a taxi Yeah The people in the crowd They're just a bunch of creeps Just the same You shouldn't blame Your problems on the greeks Cuz it looks like you need stitches And that lip won't heal for weeks Hey don't fall asleep your nose bleed on my lap Hey lean against the window Hey nevermind Come back Alan, Alan, Alan, Alan Sorry Mr. Kessler Searched his pockets No key there Yeah somebody hit him Help me drag him up the stair Kessler takes a look at us He thinks he understands He knows that we're loaded and we're crazy And he thinks you're stupid I prop you at your typewriter A broomstick up your shirt I lay your hands across the keys Ah shit I'm suck a jerk You've got to be a fighter The problem with the world is They don't know That you're a writer Alan, Alan, Alan, Alan You get next To me