Cutting heads

I saw him on the corner
I saw him in my head
Spilling over the border
Playing for the dead
Mysterious and alarming
Stealing all he could steal
Blowing through
A hot stepper in love
With a life busking for his meals
I’m not used to strumming all this for a game
I’m not used to hearing somebody sing,
«I've been cutting heads when they’re just walking away
I’ve been cutting heads just to make them stay
I’ve been placing bets just to make it pay
I’ve been cutting heads in a manic frame»
He jumped trains for a living
I walked home after dark
Counting coins out of a little grey cap
All I took advantage of
I’m not used to strumming all this for a game
I’m not used to hearing somebody sing,
I need somebody to shove and I want a shoulder to rub
I know they’re coming for me
I hear shots from the west and the east
All I have is my guitar and a key
And I hear him yelling down the street,
«I've been cutting heads»