And go hungry the same afternoon.  
  Sometimes the only quarters between you and a rainstorm  
  Are the quarters of the moon.  
  
  You know for every one way to sit up  
  There must be five hundred ways to beg.  
  And how can you ever be a man of standing  
  With a chain wrapped around your legs.  
  
  Just like Arbogast on the top two stairs  
  You're waiting for a corver to come cutting through your cares.  
  Living on your savings, saving up your prayers  
  Come on down, the new millionaires.  
  
  The famous say walk in their footsteps  
  But don't you go tread on their toes.  
  And if you wait for luck to open up  
  You'll be waiting there to see it close.  
  
  Well I think it was a viscount  
  Or it might have been a prince  
  When he said enjoy your leisure  
  He did nothing to convince us