I'm waiting for my man
I got thirty-five dollars in my hand
Up to South Street, 125
Feel sick and dirty, more dead than alive
I'm waiting for the man

Here he comes, he's all dressed in black
Beat up shoes and a beat up hat
He's never early, he's always late
First thing you learn is you always gotta wait
I'm waiting for the man

Up to a Clark Street, up three flights of stairs
Everybody's pinned you, but nobody cares
He's got the works, gives you sweet taste
Ah then you gotta split because you got no time to waste
I'm waiting for the man