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 He keeps a low profile If you 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 See the soapbox man Is at it again And 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