William Butler Yeats in jeans Got up to play guitar and sing In some join in Mission Beach last night At the door sat Tom Waits In a pork pie hat and silver skates Jugglin' three collection plates Jesus Christ Townes Van Zandt standin' at the bar Skinnin' a Hollywood movie star Can't remember where he parked his car Or to whom he lost the keys Full of angst and hillbilly haiku What's a poor Ft. Worth boy to do Go on rhyme somethin' for 'em, man Show him how you really feel Ain't no money in poetry That's what sets the poet free I've had all the freedom I can stand Cold dog soup and rainbow pie Is all it takes to get me by Fool my belly till the day I die Cold dog soup and rainbow pie Ginsberg and Kerouac Shootin' dice and playin' Ramblin' Jack's guitar With the cowboy paintin' pickguard on it And they sat in the back and drank for free And rhymed orange with Rosalie Now there's a pride of lions to draw to Ain't no money in poetry That's what sets the poet free I've had all the freedom I can stand Cold dog soup and rainbow pie Is all it takes to get me by Fool my belly till the day I die Cold dog soup and rainbow pie © MCA MUSIC PUBL ADO UNIVERSAL STUDIO; SODA CREEK SONGS; Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com