Wear the crown made of thorns on the day I was born   By the light of a cold television   And I remember the boss in his uniform   As he marched from the field of vision      Well he didn't come home and it was just us alone   The brat and the widowed civilian   Then one April night after Ma took her life   I fell down the street to oblivion      And I took what the dumpsters were giving   And I did my best to survive   'Cause I figured that life's for the living   While you're alive   While you're alive      Bring out the gin and the small violins   I'm a raging success as a failure   And it's colder than hell in this cardboard hotel   Which I share with a chronic embezzler      So I beat my retreat down collister street   To one of my holy places   And they tangled my wings with wire and string   But I'm spinning in a whirlpool of faces      And I'll take what the dumpsters are giving   And I'll do my best to survive   'Cause I still think that life's for the living   Yes I still think that life's for the living      And I'll take what the dumpsters are giving   And I'll pray every night to St. Giles   But I still think that life's for the living   At least for a while   At least for a while