There's old Gray with her dove-winged hat There's old Green with her sewing machine Where's the bobbin' at? She's toting old grain in a printed sack The dust blows forward and the dust blows back And the wind blows black through the sky And the smokestack blows up in the sun's eye What am I gonna die? A white flake riverboat just blew by Bubbles pop big And a lip, and a lipstick Kleenex Hung on a pointed forked twig Reminds me of the bobby girls Never was my hobby girls Handful o' worms and a pole fishin' Cork bobbin' like a hot red bulb
And a blue jay squeaks His beak open an inch above a creek Gone fishin' for a week Well I put down my bush And I took off my pants and felt free The breeze blowin' up me and up the canyon Far as I could see It's night now and the moon looks like a dandelion It's black now and the blackbird's feedin' on rice And his red wings look like diamonds and lice I could hear the mice toes scamperin' Gophers rumblin' in pile crater rock holes One red bean stuck in the bottom of a tin bowl Hot coffee from a krimpt up can Me and my girl named Bimbo Limbo Spam