I got a little black book with my poems in
I've got a bag with a toothbrush and comb in
When I'm a good dog they sometimes throw me a bone
I got elastic bands keeping my shoes on
Got those swollen hands blues
Got thirteen channels of shit on the TV to choose from
I got electric light
And I've got second sight
I've 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 favourite satin shirt