| Disappointed
|
| Never more
|
| Got so low they had to use
|
| the jaws of life
|
| To yank me up from under the floor
|
| Thrilled to be here
|
| Thank you much
|
| It’s strange when nothing gets to taste so satisfying
|
| That you don’t mind the rot gut
|
| So me and my sugar we’re on a roadtrip
|
| From Bostone to Philly and I don’t know maybe St. Louis
|
| Got a patch
|
| From my therapist
|
| Sha’s got a heart like a yacht
|
| But she’s all screwed up, she’s a pugilist
|
| Sorrry Bobby, miss ya Jack
|
| But if I could choose I’d ask to have
|
| Dr. Martin Luther King back
|
| So me and my sugar we’re on a roadtrip
|
| From D.C. to Dallas and I don’t know maybe Memphis
|
| So when this ship eventually sinks
|
| That’ll be alright
|
| Got a friend
|
| In a cracked house
|
| That sits around all day wonderin’who and when
|
| Shot the lights out
|
| But some things won’t be explained
|
| Like the cabby that fell asleep in Hoboken
|
| And woke up Shirley MacLaine
|
| So me and my sugar we’re on a roadtrip
|
| From Hollywood to the East village and I don’t know maybe midland Texas
|
| So when this ship eventually sinks
|
| When this ship finally sinks
|
| When all this shit don’t mean a thing
|
| That’ll be alright |