| «Hey, look out for my glass up there, man
|
| That’s my drink, man, that’s my drink, alright
|
| Make it a double, or eh
|
| Somebody has to sing
|
| Some body will sing?
|
| Somebody will sing, right?
|
| I don’t know»
|
| You all pass me that bottle
|
| And I’ll sing you all a real song
|
| Yeah
|
| Let me get my key, ahem
|
| Well, I’m looking through Harlem
|
| My stomach squeal just a little more
|
| A stagecoach full of feathers and footprints
|
| Pulls up to soap box door
|
| Now a lady with a pearl handled necktie
|
| Tied to the driver’s fence
|
| Breathes in my face
|
| Bourbon and coke possessed words
|
| «Haven't I seen you somewhere in hell
|
| Or was it just an accident?»
|
| (You know how I felt then, and so)
|
| Before I could ask «Was it the East or West side?»
|
| My feet they howled in pain
|
| The wheels of a bandwagon cut very deep
|
| But not as deep in my mind as the rain
|
| And as they pulled away, I could see her words
|
| Stagger and fall on my muddy tent
|
| Well I picked them up, brushed them off
|
| To see what they say
|
| And you wouldn’t believe
|
| «Come around to my room, with the tooth in the middle
|
| And bring along the bottle and a president»
|
| And eh sometimes it’s not so easy, baby
|
| Especially when your only friend
|
| Talks, sees, looks and feels like you
|
| And you do just the same as him
|
| (Gets very lonely up this road, baby)
|
| (Yeah, hmmm, yeah)
|
| (Got more to say)
|
| Well I’m riding through LA (huh)
|
| On a bicycle built for fools
|
| And I seen one of my old buddies
|
| And he say, «You don’t look the way you usually do»
|
| I say, «Well, some people look like a coin-box»
|
| He says, «Looks like you have got no coins to spare»
|
| And I laid back and I thought to myself, and I said this
|
| I just picked up my pride from underneath the pay phone
|
| And combed this breath right out of my hair
|
| And eh sometimes it’s not so easy
|
| Especially when your only friend
|
| Talks, sees, looks and feels like you
|
| And you do just the same as him
|
| I just got out of a Scandinavian jail
|
| And I’m on my way straight home to you
|
| But I feel so dizzy, I take a quick look in the mirror
|
| To make sure my friend’s here with me too
|
| And you know good well I don’t drink coffee
|
| So you fill my cup full of sand
|
| And the frozen tea leaves on the bottom
|
| Cherry lipstick around the broken edge
|
| And my coat that you let your dog lay by the fire on
|
| And your cat he attacks me from his pill-box ledge
|
| And I thought you were my friend too
|
| Man, my shadow comes in line before you
|
| I’m finding out that it’s not so easy, baby
|
| Especially when your only friend
|
| Talks, sees, looks and feels like you
|
| And you do the same just like him
|
| (Lord it’s so lonely here, hmmm, yeah)
|
| Yeah!
|
| (Pass me that bottle over there)
|
| Yeah, yeah, okay |