But thanks for your time. Then you can thank me for mine. And after that's said, forget it. Don't be inane, there's no one to blame: no reason why yo… - Sixto Rodriguez

Born in the troubled city
in rock and roll USA
in the shadow of the tallest building,
I vowed I would break away.
Listened to the Sunday actors
but all they would ever say:
That you can't get away from it.
No you can't get away.
No you can't get away from it.
No you can't get away.

Was it a huntsman or a player
that made you pay the cost
that now assumes relaxed positions
And prostitutes your loss?
Were you tortured by your own thirst
in those pleasures that you seek
that made you Tom the Curious;
that makes you James the Weak?
And you claim you've got something going,
something you call unique,
but I've seen your self-pity showing
as the tears rolled down your cheeks.

And I'll forget about the girl that said no.
Then I'll tell who I want where to go.
And I'll forget about your lies and deceit
and your attempts to be so discreet.
Maybe today, yeah,
I'll slip away.
And you can keep your symbols of success.
Then I'll pursue my own happiness.
And you can keep your clocks and routines.
Then I'll go mend all my shattered dreams.
Maybe today, yeah,
I'll slip away.