In which our hero, who was born to write songs, tries to figure out his life with help from the interviewer.
Tuesday, January 17, 2017
mister suspenders
I know the day will come
when I'll be living easy
high on the hog
off the fat of the land
a winner at poker,
high stakes and parcheezee
you may think I'm sleazy
but you don't understand
the cops like to call me
mister suspenders
the gals like to call me
the pick of the bunch
my ex-wife used to call me
"hey, big spender"
just remember
don't call me late for lunch
don't pin it on me
I never knew the dame
never tasted her sweet nectar
never knew her Christian name
you're only looking for
someone to take the blame
and you're thinking that someone
should be me
well, I disrespectfully disagree
you look like you could be
running for congress
you look like the lead actress
on that TV show
you look like there may be
a traitor among us
beneath all the fungus
only lies melted snow
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