Over there in the cold stands the Hustler, his eyes are old
He has seen a million ugly scenes
Places where men droop with mould
The backrooms there soiled goods are sold
Seen with opened eyes since frail fifteen
He has found it hard at first
But on his brow there sits a curse
For when the young must suffer at the hands of men
Memories of Christmas past were never there to ever last
Things as were can never be again
Over there by the wall stands the Hustler, he's not very tall
He's trampled by the jaded by the sly
He's seen the darker side of men first fascinated and then
He found his urge to laugh, an urge to cry
He'll find close friends, no friend at all
He feels so lonely, tired and small
How few are chosen from the golden call
There's something in us all it seems
To crave adventure, hunt for dreams
But [bad word] the seducer spoils our schemes
And surely as the snow will melt the Hustler
Grabs his soul and heads for home
With lessons learnt under his belt
Over there by the wall stands the Hustler
With the men of law
On either side to flank the sallow youth
But some of us will never learn
It takes the blow of fists to burn
How painfully we suffer for the [bad word]