At night I walk this stinkin’ street past the crazies on my block
And I see the same old faces and I hear that same old talk
And I’m searching for the latest thing, a break in this routine
I’m talkin’ some new kicks, ones like you ain’t never seen
This is home, this is Mean Street
(This is) Yes-ah home, the only one I know
An’ we don’t worry ‘bout tomorrow ‘cause we’re sick of these four walls
Now what you think is nothin’ might be somethin’ after all
Now you know this ain’t no through street, the end is dead ahead
The poor folks play for keeps down here, they’re the living dead
Come on down, (Huh! Ow!) down (This is) to Mean Street
They’re dancin’ now, look! Out on Mean Street
Dance baby!
It give me hope this morning that even on “Mean Street”, dead end that it is, with all it failures, the sanctity of the Mean St. women’s restroom is preserved for a little while longer, until McDonald’s transgenders it. “Mean Street” isn’t in Sodom yet friends, sad to say that other places of Honor and Duty are. Thanks Obama!