Men At Work

Hello to you, my sweet young friends
Have you got money perhaps you could lend?
I wash my leather face in the afternoon sun
My shirts turn my times near done
Touching the untouchables but they dont know
Respect the disrespectables, but in the end you know
You turn away, what can I say?
Spend my nights in the telephone booth
I make sure I leave the phone off the hook
There are no jones and I pay no rent
I have to stand straight because my backs so bent
Tell my secretary I aint takin any calls,
And if you want to find me, just ask the boys...