| Christ almighty life’s a hurricane |
| I got a broke umbrella in this yellow rain |
| 'Tween the errs of Eve and the mark of Cain |
| But I can’t break free of this being born stain |
| 'Cause them cinderblock walls |
| They don’t fall down |
| They don’t fall down |
| Not without being hammered on |
| Now my woman say she love me but how’s that true |
| When she beats me with her tongue till I’m black and blue? |
| It’s a camels back and Lord I ain’t got a clue |
| When that last straw hits quite what I’ll do |
| 'Cause them cinderblock walls |
| They don’t fall down |
| They don’t fall down |
| Not without being hammered on |
| Been sitting twenty damn years beneath the money tree |
| Wondering why the hell the fruit won’t fall for me |
| See my dirt poor palms stretched out in vain |
| While the moths of poverty eat holes in my brain |
| And them cinderblock walls |
| They don’t fall down |
| They don’t fall down |
| Not without being hammered on |
| Now like all cinderblock men, inside I’m hollow |
| My dreams dried up and soon my pride followed |
| Guess they’ll write on my tombstone the day I’m gone |
| This one here got tired of being hammered on |
| 'Cause them cinderblock walls |
| They don’t fall down |
| They don’t fall down |
| Not without being hammered on |
| Hammered on |
| Hammered on |
| Hammered on |