(Gotta Get a) Meal TicketJohn/TaupinI can hound you if I need toSip your brandy from a crystal shoeIn the corner, in the cornerWhile the others climb reaching dizzy heightsThe world’s in front of me in black and whiteI’m on the bottom line, I’m on the bottom lineI’d have a cardiac if I had such luckLucky losers, lucky losers landing on skid rowLanding on skid rowWhile the Diamond JimsAnd the Kings road pimpsBreath heavy in their brand new clothesI’m on the bottom line, I’m on the bottom lineAnd I gotta get a meal ticketTo survive you need a meal ticketTo stay alive you need a meal ticketFeel no pain, no painNo regret, no regretWhen the line’s been signedYou’re someone elseDo yourself a favor, the meal ticket does the restShake a hand if you have toTrust in us and we will love you anyway, anywayDon’t leave us stranded in the jungleWith fifty percent that’s hard to handleAin’t that so, ain’t that so
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