| Tweed jacket, trucker hat, cup of tea
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| I’m just sitting at the table thinking about me
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| With my moccasins on and waiting by my phone
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| With my half-masked eyes like a tear-less drone
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| I am the deep down clown, you better throw me a bone
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| Cause I’ll be making that sound, when they leave me alone
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| With the pots and pans, my voice and my hands
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| And my spoon drumstick, with this innocuous trance
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| You got to give me a chance to advance this romance
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| So when I pick out my 'fro I have a place I can go
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| No no, don’t leave me hanging like a spider with no fly
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| Cause I’ve been banging on the walls cause I’m too dry to cry
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| Photocopied Xerox pictures of dames
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| With two dimensional faces make me feel ashamed
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| So I keep 'em tucked away in a folder that’s red
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| But I don’t need to look at them, cause they’re stuck in my head
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| They’re what I sniff when I tell you to come right along
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| In my one-room shack, you know we can’t go wrong
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| I got nine hard inches like a pitchfork prong
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| So honey lift up your dress and help me sing this song
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| No no
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| Ow no
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| Don’t leave me hanging (repeat, fade out) |