At the Firefly we all tell lies
And the cleanup kid hangs his head
He's the quiet type came to LA to write
but he never made it out of the fringes
Keeps a low profile Kick him he'll smile
Thinks blood is his payment for losing...

While me I'm hiding here
pretending that my mind is clear
A rock for the forgotten
But when I pour, they smile
and say to me that I'm
a rock for the forgotten...

A bottle got broke in a fight over dope
And the mean old man washed his hands
All the troubles he's seen seems like a dream
while he washes away his sorrow
But either way I can tell that he prays
there will never be another tomorrow

While me I never change
I try to keep things just the same
A rock for the forgotten
And when I pour, they smile
Say to me that I'm
a rock for the forgotten...

Maybe they'll come alive
Maybe they'll come alive
Come alive again...

Maybe they'll come alive
Maybe they'll come alive
Come alive again...

The soapbox man is at it again
The girls pass by avoiding his eye
He's the best there is in the hellfire biz
A black belt in the art of babble
Came from Veracruz when a bottle of booze
told him he had to rouse the rabble

While me I'm hiding here
pretending that my mind is clear
A rock for the forgotten
But when I pour, they smile
and say to me that I'm
a rock for the forgotten...

Maybe they'll come alive...

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