Waiting on the corner for the man with the black trench coat / I know he got what I need and without it I just can’t cope / I wake up all alone / I cannot find my phone / my car is gone again and there ain’t no sign of him / Baby, you know that I understand that you can feel my pain / I will tell you all my secrets, but for this I can’t explain / but when you come into the door / I ask you just once more / but you choose to take that chance / yeah, you take the time to dance /

Now tap the bottle and twist the cap and find your fade with these flows / ‘cause Uncle Sam’ll ante up until he pays what he owes / we gotta fix
prescripted ‘cause the shit’s addictive / if you slip the mick, it’s just the way that it goes / so add it like an abacus and baby count that up / and bounce back just ‘cause I wore a slouch hat once / and found that stuff to spill on the real to the reel / as good friends, good music, and a bottle of pills reveals /

Living envisioned, blurry to wisdom, sickened is this in a written inscription / of backward ambition and meeting it dead-on like a head-on collision / leaving a schism, and twisting the bottle cap like that when I stroll / and then ingest the freshest breath to set the measures as it’s vested control / professing the soul through cures that motivate me / dependence in delirium tremens, I’m finding greatly / have saved me from mediocrity and musically it’s true blue / but who knew the voodoo I seemingly gotten through to / boogadeboo / so you can make your judgments now, and I’ll just tip my cap and be on my way / nickels and dimes and summertime inhabits in picnics for friends and addicts, emphatically happier with the day / so I stay in a half mast of torrential outcasts aborted / my slouch hat tilts forward from rationing paregoric / to figure the meaning of life is about as legit as you getting involved / so I’ma get in the mix, deliver the twist, and hit you with lickety-split, aahhh /

Feel my black Fred Astaire glide, zooted like Coltrain / dizzier than Gillespie / 3 piece suit creased / took a train downtown to where the boys be / slouch hat crazy in smoke filled rooms jazzy / inspirational, my peeps showcase talent / even though there’s color boundaries, we cut the rug addicts / in them wingtips, and here’s a tip for you / recognize the Blue Notes and you’ll see where we come from / Moses on the bones, Borth on the saxophone / Harlem night scene, stay fly or get sent home / New Orleans through Chi-town we take over / power to the people making the music that you ask for / look ya’ll, I’m on the first thang smoking / head straight to Europe where they appreciate the art form / Josephine Baker style / maybe times will change and I’ll come back, but I’m living it up for now /