State of the Union - Richard Shindell

That nice easy mark at the edge of the park

Was a slam dunk if ever I saw one

I don’t know what happened, I just let it go by

I guess maybe out of respect

This old town is my home, and I’m not so far gone

That I don’t feel like anyone else

And it didn’t seem right to add to the wrong

I decided to get me some help

If not know then when?

I said to myself

Over and over again

Make it right, get free, get rid of the junk

I’ve heard it can happen that way

I went down to the clinic on a hundred and tenth

And got on the methadone program

I waited on line every morning at nine

For my little white cup, my reprieve

It was going OK, I was feeling alright

I even got back with my daughter

I lost a few friends, who were anything but

And just took it one day at time

If not now then when, I kept asking myself

Over and over again

Make it right, get free, get rid of the junk

They say it can happen that way

I can’t say for sure how it all fell apart

One thing just led to another

Next thing I knew I had stolen a car

I was flying straight up to the Bronx

Must’ve lost the old touch, I blew through a toll

They caught me just outside of Rye

Sporting all that remained of my new-found resolve

A shirt that said NYPD

Some shred of my soul could almost believe

That the Lord sent those cruisers for me

Make it right, get free, get rid of the junk

But it don’t always happen that way

At the half-way house we’re all sitting around

Watching the State of the Union

And I’m rolling that stone right back up the hill

Watching out for the shit coming down

The President’s up there grining that grin

Thinking he’s some kind of John Wayne

We’re howling and jeering all his talk about shooting

And drilling our way out of this

If not now then when, I’ll keep asking myself

Over and over again

Make it right?

Get free?

Get rid of the junk?

That nice easy mark at the edge of the park

Was a slam dunk if ever I saw one

I don’t know what happened, I just let it go by

I guess maybe out of respect

This old town is my home, and I’m not so far gone

That I don’t feel like anyone else

And it didn’t seem right to add to the wrong

I decided to get me some help

If not know then when?

I said to myself

Over and over again

Make it right, get free, get rid of the junk

I’ve heard it can happen that way

I went down to the clinic on a hundred and tenth

And got on the methadone program

I waited on line every morning at nine

For my little white cup, my reprieve

It was going OK, I was feeling alright

I even got back with my daughter

I lost a few friends, who were anything but

And just took it one day at time

If not now then when, I kept asking myself

Over and over again

Make it right, get free, get rid of the junk

They say it can happen that way

I can’t say for sure how it all fell apart

One thing just led to another

Next thing I knew I had stolen a car

I was flying straight up to the Bronx

Must’ve lost the old touch, I blew through a toll

They caught me just outside of Rye

Sporting all that remained of my new-found resolve

A shirt that said NYPD

Some shred of my soul could almost believe

That the Lord sent those cruisers for me

Make it right, get free, get rid of the junk

But it don’t always happen that way