Blackout, heatwave, .44 caliber homicide
  The buns drop dead and dogs go mad
  In packs on the West Side
  Young girl standing on a ledge looks like another suicide
  She wants to hit those bricks
  'Cause the news at six gotta stick to a deadline
  While the millionaires hide in Beekman Place
  The bag ladies throw their bones in my face
  I get attacked by a kid with stereo sound
  I don't want to hear it but he won't turn it down
  Life is tough but it's just enough
  To hold back the tears until it's closing time
  I survived, I'm still alive
  But I'm getting close to the borderline
  Close to the borderline
    A buck three eighty
  Won't buy you much lately on the street these days
  And when you can get gas
  You know you can't drive fast anymore on the parkways
  Rich man, poor man, either way American
  Shoved into the lost and found
  The no nuke yell we're gonna all go to hell
  With the next big meltdown
  I got remote control and a color T.V.
  I don't change channels so they must change me
  I got real close friends that will get me high
  They don't know hot to talk and they ain't gonna try
  I shouldn't bitch, I shouldn't cry
  I'd start a revolution but I don't have time
  I don't know why I'm still a nice guy
  But I'm getting close to the borderline
  Close to the borderline
    I thought I'd sacrifice so many things
  I thought I'd throw them all away
  I didn't think I needed anything
  But you can't afford to squander what you're not prepared to pay
    I need a doctor for my pressure pills
  I need a lawyer for my medical bills
  I need a banker to finance my home
  I need security to back my loan
  It isn't new what I'm going through
  But everybody knows you got to break sometime
  Another night I fought the good fight
  But I'm getting closer to the borderline
  Closer to the borderline.