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Pocket Money

de Carole King

No friends, no dreams, no pocket money.

There's a wall around my body,
A fence around my kind.
Nothing comes to me easily,
not leastwise peace of mind.
Still, I keep movin',
tryin' to break on through.
I don't know nothin' else to do.

Peelin' paint above my head
is just another sign.
Black clouds in the distance,
gettin' closer all the time.
I gotta keep movin',
tryin' to break on through.
I don't know nothin' else to do.

Sometimes when I think that things
are bad as they can be,
I see a fella standing
lower down on the ladder than me.

Now, I'm alive and kickin'
dust behind my heel.
Long as I got my soul
I'm on the good end of the deal
and I'm gonna keep movin',
tryin' to break on through.
I don't know nothin' else to do.
I gotta keep movin'.
No friends, no dreams, no pocket money.
So, I'm gonna keep movin'.
No pocket money.

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