Proof of Citizenship

Who said I wasn't born?

(But I'll be lucky if I figure this out while I'm still alive.)

Detroit City

I came from Detroit City,
Who knows where I'm bound,
Is the name of a street in my town,
My wardrobe it was simple,
The color army green,
It kept me out of trouble,
Or so it was supposed to have seemed.

When I finally got back to,
The place where I came from,
They said that they would not hire,
I started to feel like a bum,
Some strangers tried to help me,
They offered me advice,
Seemed they were only waiting,
For me to slip on the ice.

Well I went to work at a graveyard,
I dug with a shovel and spade,
Many is the poor soul,
That in the ground I laid.
But the weather's always changing,
And it's hard to close your eyes,
To the light that shines upon you,
Or the clouds in the skies.

Well my head reads like a textbook,
With all the problems inside.
File through my pages,
There's always plenty to hide.
This wind just keeps on howling,
Some day it's gonna blow me along,
Cat's outside screamin',
I hope that I finish this song.