I got a little black book with my poems in

Got a bag' got a toothbrush and a comb

When I'm a good dog they sometimes throw me a bone

I got elastic bands keeping my shoes on

Got those swollen hands blus

Got thirteen channels of sh*t on the TV to choose from

I got electric light'

And I got second sight

Got amazing powers of observation

And that is how I know'

When I try to get through'

On the telephone to you'

There'll be nobody home

I got the obligatory Hendrix perm'

And the inevitable pinhole burns'

All down the front of my favorite satin shirt'

I got nicotine stains on my fingers

I got a silver spoon on a chain

Got a grand piano to prop my mortal remains

I've got wild' staring eyes

And I got a strong urge to fly

But I got nowhere to fly to fly to fly to fly to

Ooooo Babe'

When I pick up the phone'

There's still nobody home

I got a pair of Gohill boots'

And I got fading roots