Robyn Hitch***** - Ballad Of A Thin Man Lyrics
You walk into the roomWith your pencil in your handYou see somebody *****And you say, "Who is that man?"You try so hardBut you don't understandJust what you'll sayWhen you get homeBecause something is happening hereBut you don't know what it isDo you, Mister Jones?You raise up your headAnd you ask, "Is this where it is?"And somebody points to you and says"It's his."And you say, "What's mine?"And somebody else says, "Where what is?"And you say, "Oh my GodAm I here all alone?"Because something is happening hereBut you don't know what it isDo you, Mister Jones?You hand in your ticketAnd you go watch the geekWho immediately walks up to youWhen he hears you speakAnd says, "How does it feelTo be such a freak?"And you say, "Impossible."As he hands you a boneBecause something is happening hereBut you don't know what it isDo you, Mister Jones?You have many contactsAmong the lumberjacksTo get you factsWhen someone attacks your imaginationBut nobody has any respectAnyway they already expect youTo just give a checkTo tax-deductible charity organizationsYou've been with the professorsAnd they've all liked your looksWith great lawyers you haveDiscussed lepers and crooksYou've been through all ofF. Scott Fitzgerald's booksYou're very well-readIt's well-knownBecause something is happening hereBut you don't know what it isDo you, Mister Jones?Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to youAnd then he kneelsHe crosses himselfAnd then he clicks his high heelsAnd without further noticeHe asks you how it feelsAnd he says, "Here is your throat backThanks for the loan."Because something is happening hereBut you don't know what it isDo you, Mister Jones?Now you see this one-eyed midgetShouting the word "Now!"And you say, "For what reason?"And he says, "How?"And you say, "What does this mean?"And he screams back, "You're a cowGive me some milkOr else go home!"Because something is happening hereBut you don't know what it isDo you, Mister Jones?Well, you walk into the roomLike a camel and then you frownYou put your eyes in your pocketAnd your nose on the groundThere ought to be a lawAgainst you comin' aroundYou should be madeTo wear earphonesBecause something is happening hereBut you don't know what it isDo you, Mister Jones?
