I'd like to do a new song here. This is uh... it's about downtown Los Angeles on 5th Street and... all the winos uh... affectionately refer to it as The Nickel. So this is kind of a hobo's lullaby.

It says sticks and stones can break my bones
but I always will be true
And when your mama's dead and gone,
I'll sing this lullaby just for you

What becomes of all the little boys
who never comb their hair
They're lined up all around the block
on the nickel over there

And if you chew tobacco
and wish upon a star
You'll find out where the scarecrows sit,
now they just look like punch lines between the cars

And I know a place where a royal flush
can never beat a pair
And even Thomas Jefferson
is on the nickel over there

So ring around the rosy,
sleepin' in the rain
You're always late for supper
man you let me down again

I thought I heard a mockingbird,
Roosevelt knows where.
I'm whistling past the graveyard,
and they're on the nickel over there

So what becomes of all the little boys
who run away from home
The world keeps gettin' bigger
once you get out on your own

But you never know how rich you are,
you haven't got a prayer
It's heads you win and tails they lose,
You're on the nickel
and you're over there... (less info)