Cold Dog Soup

Now William Butler Yeats in jeans
Got up to play guitar and sing
In some join in Mission Beach last night
At the door sat Tom Waits
In a pork pie hat and silver skates
Jugglin' three collection plates, Jesus Christ

Townes Van Zandt standin' at the bar
Skinnin' a Hollywood movie star
And he can't remember where he parked his car
Or to whom he lost the keys
Ah, but his full of angst and hillbilly haiku
What's a poor Ft. Worth boy to do
Go on rhyme somethin' for em' man
Show him how you really feel

Ain't no money in poetry
That's what sets the poet free
I've had all the freedom I can stand
It got you cold dog soup and rainbow pie
All it takes to get me by
Fool my belly 'till the day I die
Cold dog soup and rainbow pie

Ginsberg and Kerouac
Shootin' dice and playin' Ramblin' Jack's guitar
With the cowboy paintin' pickguard on it
And they sat in the back and drank for free
And they rhymed orange with Rosalie
Now there's a pride of lions to draw to

Oh ain't no money in poetry
That's what sets the poet free
I've had all the freedom I can stand
It cold dog soup and rainbow pie
All it takes to get me by
Fool my belly 'till the day I die
Cold dog soup and rainbow pie

There ain't no money in poetry
That's what sets the poet free
I've had all the freedom I can stand
Cold dog soup and rainbow pie
All it takes to get me by
Fool my belly 'till the day I die
Cold dog soup and rainbow pie



Credits
Writer(s): Mark Daniel Sanders, Guy Charles Clark
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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