[Intro]
Uh-oh!

[Verse 1]
Young man on slumdog street, all week worked flesh to bone
To see the "evening show..."
Up in the slumdog seats, so sick of the front row
He's God's message to the "high-class" folk

[Chorus]
You're not flying high, your sky is low
Like making angels out of crows
Look out! It's your average working man!
Uh-oh!

[Verse 2]
Locked up on slumdog row, somehow he feels more free
They ask how this should be, he tells them, "I felt like a wrong note
When no one's listening (When no one's listening!)
I made my masterpiece..." (Now you're the ones out of key!)

[Chorus]
Tired of getting by on your pills and dope
While you're getting high on my bills and loans
Look out! It's your average working man!
Uh-oh!

[Post-Chorus]
Ah, he's a hero inside of his head
Loaded up on the words that they said
Ammunitional thoughts to lay, dead
Dead, dead! Uh-oh!

[Bridge]
I am the prodigal son, the fucking chosen one
Of all the never-beens, the never-wills, the no-ones
Lost sins will be forgiven by all the underlivings
I'm just a whore for the working class villains

[Outro]
Sincerely, your average working man! Uh-oh!
I'm just your average working man! Uh-oh!