The old believers of the russian church are nHawking their wares and selling their merchnWhile the kayak man with his farmer's tannSits in his van and complains about his daynnWhen profession is an excuse for personalitynAnd the linens of dreams get caught in wash machine screamsnAnd the tender at the bar has an orange backless dress that catches your eyennHe's packed his cellphonenAnd the lamppost lights are onnThe ship is setting sailnThe winds are blowing strongnnHe don't seenHe don't carenHe feels the life leavingnHim with every stepnnAnd it catches your eyennI've got a lot of time an money, I don't want to spend either on younI've got a lot of time, listen honey, I don't want to spend it on younnThat's what he saidnTo mennIt's what he'd say nTo younnAnd if you think you're held in some higher regard, wellnHold your tongue nnI've got a lot of time an money, I don't want to spend either on younI've got a lot of time, listen honey, I don't want to spend it on younnMy wallet's filled with broken dreams