Nobody home

I`ve got a little black book with my poems in
      
 got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in
        
 when I`m a good dog they sometimes throw me a bone in

    I`ve got elastic bands keeping my shoes on
 
 got those swollen hand blues
       
 got thirteen channels of shit on the TV to choose from
 
 I got electric light and I got second sight

 got amazing powers of observation

    and that is how I know

    when I try to get thru on the telephone to you

 There`ll be nobody home.
 
 
 Additional lyrics:
 
     I`ve got the obligatory Hendrix perm
     And the inevitable pinhole burns
     All down the front of my favourite satin shirt
     I`ve got nicotine stains on my fingers
     I`ve got a silver spoon on a chain
     Got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains
     I`ve got wide staring eyes
     & I`ve got a strong urge to fly
     But I`ve got nowhere to fly to (fly to fly to fly to fly to)
     Ooooh babe, why not pick up the phone?
     There`s still nobody home.

 I`ve got a pair of Gohill`s boots

 But I got fading roots.