I've seen your imagination high above the halfway station

Always working, always making something for the pile

Then you set it all on fire

You can learn to make something real

That comes from the heel of your life

I'm still trying

You don't have to break your mama's heart to change the world

Mama's boy's daddy is in the crack house again

Watching car crash shows with the pipe in

A pack of dull monkeys could write circles around

That fourth grade, mumbly slang

Stream of consciousness, jive that you call a song

Is that going to be your story?

Child, you don't have to break your mama's heart to change the world

You're never gonna change your mind

Don't just rearrange the lies into a straighter line

Not too many years ago there was hippies killing people

A mile away from the Marlboro Ma.n

Now there's sandpaper pants on the gutter punks, And lowriders with their heads in the trunks or Walking in fours, and kicking in doors, cutting it up, and filling their cup

You don't have to break your mama's heart to change the world

Said you don't have to break your mama's heart to change the world

Change the world

Poor, poor LA

Poor, poor LA

Poor, poor LA