Mister Mister
Benny Gallagher, Graham Lyle
Mister, maybe you can spare a dime
Begging in the morn sunshine
Playing my kind of music
Busking around the upside of town
Under the ground, all through the wintertime
Mister, mister, spare us a dime
Lady, walking with your nose in the air
Confidently we couldn't care
What you think about us, baby?
We pick up and run when the police come
Spoiling our fun, trying to keep us in line
Lady, can you spare us a dime?
Mister, my shoes are hanging off my feet
Oh kicking up the dust on the street
The same thing since when, baby
So get right in and it's all in my skin
Therе's a hole in my jeans
Wherе all of my dreams fall through
Mister, maybe you can spare us a dime