And if I gotta sell the clothes right off my back to keep strings on this guitar, then that's what I'll do.
As long as there's a breath of air inside these lungs and these vocal cords still work, I swear to god, I'll put 'em to good use.
If I had to pick between bein' rich and playin' chords out on the street, then this guitar is what I'd choose.
And I'll just keep strummin' and screamin' and hackin' up blood all night until I get that message through.
(To get that message through to you)

And I'll live off of the spare change in this guitar case.
And never brush the rotten teeth I can the smile on my face.
Just as long as I have enough to play and eat,
Then I'll get by just fine living out here on the street.