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Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
Baby, I can't seem to open my eyes, But I must get out of this bed 'Cause the phone keeps ringing downstairs, And I know that this ain't no place for a sleepy head. I go down to my chest. Oh! Yer! Put on my old string vest. Swing it on, baby. Well, I feel like I'm in need, So I go back up for a smoke, And then I slip back in my easy chair. Then I give my lucky dog a stroke. Well, he just gives me a wink, And I know what that mean now. Well, it mean that I need to put on his lead If I don't want a mess on my cheap pan. That's cool, 'Cause I know I can trust him To grab the fuzz if they bust in. Get him boy! Oh! Yer! Well, what does it take To make a jelly roll? Who can you sell? When I wake up to a grey day, How do I ship away so easily? Oh! Baby! Baby! Well, I feel too old to get a hair cut, And I ain't had a shave in months. Now when I don't go out I keep my door shut, And I get on back to good old Beckton Dumps. Drowning! Now, warn ya! I'll be right back! I won't go there! |