Folk Singer - Brendan Benson

Like a folk singer’s song I’m moving on And I’m not the kind of man that acts very strong

When the girls are looking on When the girls are looking on If you tied my hands and put chains on my feet

I can picture myself walking down any street

Telling people that I meet

Looks like rain to me Every single day at eleven I’m home in bed in sleep heaven

Alone cuz my girl leaves at seven ain’t got time for my bedn’in

She said stop pretendin’you’re not JOhn Lennon

Will I ever get over this

Having tasted your lips with a kiss

You can cross me off your list

Take these cuffs from off my wrists

And drop your fists

Soon as I’m well I’m gonna leave my house

Become more of a man and less like a mouse

Drive my car down south to the Mississippi’s mouth

In the gulf of Mexico I’ll get soused

Every girl I made in the shade of Esplanade

I’ve saved in a song that I play when I’m afraid

Of a full scale air-raid

From the choices that I’ve made

When I heard the news about the union dues

And how each time I lose no matter which door I choose

I put on my walking shows

And I just cruised (and you know I got bruised)

It was fun while it lasted until it was blasted

Right out of the water and into fantastic

Now he feels shafted and she’s already past it She’s like elastic and he’s so spastic