Going down a dirty inner city side road, I plotted. Madness passed me by, she smiled Hi. I nodded. Looked up as the sky began to cry; she shot it. Me… - Sixto Rodriguez

My pocket don't drive me fast,
my mother treats me slow,
my statue's got a concrete heart
but you're the coldest bitch I know.
In the factory that you call your mind:
graveyard thoughts of stone.
A master thief, I wouldn't enter there,
you've nothing I would care to own (so help me).

I've played every kind of gig there is to play now.
I've played faggot bars, hooker bars, motor cycle funerals,
in opera houses, concert halls, halfway houses.
Well, I found that in all these places that I've played
all the people that I've played for are the same people.
So if you'll listen, maybe you'll see someone you know in this song.
A most disgusting song.

Sugar Man, won't you hurry
'cause I'm tired of these scenes.
For a blue coin, won't you bring back
all those colors to my dreams?
Silver magic ships, you carry
jumpers, coke, sweet Mary Jane.
Sugar Man met a false friend
on a lonely dusty road.
Lost my heart. When I found it
it had turned to dead black coal.