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
