He was so poor that he did his own laundry with his own tears
He was so poor that he made me a valentine out of a napkin
He was so poor that he wrote me a poem on a stolen typewriter
I loved him for that
But now that he's made it and crushed by the climb
Nothing he says to me makes any sense
All of his money has given him time
To reflect on nothing but emptiness and I miss the hunger in John
He was so poor that he bargained my beauty to pay the rent
He was so poor that he felt like a man only when I'd consent
He was so poor that he made up a dark side
So there'd be something that he could repent
But now that he's made it and crushed by the climb
Nothing he says to me makes any sense
All of his money has given him time
To reflect on nothing but emptiness and I miss the hunger in John
He made a movie about our lives
Full of reality mingled with madness
Sent it to Hollywood, false paradise
Somebody read it - saw dollar signs and
Now he's as famous as Martin Scorsese
Seven years after his movie was made
Sipping martinis he's fat and he's lazy
Sometimes I wonder if I should've stayed
And I miss the hunger in John
He was so poor that he had to steal matches to light our candles
He was so poor that he stole outta habit what woulda been free
He was so poor that he brought home a blanket
Only to find it was really a flag… now somebody's missing a flag
Writer(s): Karen Rachael Weitzman
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