I’ve been making myself sick thinking I’m dying.
I don’t go out much because I’m all alone.
I may not be a star but at least I ain’t trying.
Picking that chicken right off of the bone.
Picking that chicken right off of the bone.
I’m a daydream in the real world.
I’m a rolling stone on a football field.
I’m alive and I’m sad about it
and that’s a miracle, that’s hysterical.
I found a heart in my pocket broken,
some cigarette butts and fifty cents change.
That my boy is what you get for looking
and haunted by forgotten names.
Haunted by forgotten names.
Would you like to hear a hopeful thought?
Is this one of those nights that you’ve paid?
Well…. soon I’ll hit that humble pot with a long bowel serenade!
A long bowel serenade.