I'm just an old yout with a cane made of root And a dog with a nasal disease I sit when it's breezing, my dog's always sneezing I swear it's the voice of Louise What do you do when you don't have a clue And the only thing doing is nothing at all? 'Cept wait for night fall when the will of the wind Has its way in the gra** on a summer's day And the rope ends that hung above layers of dung Had little on all sides but air In the buzzing dry wheat that wisps my bare feet I step on my doggie's despair What do you do when you don't have a clue And the only thing doing is nothing at all? 'Cept wait for night fall when the will of the wind Has its way in the gra** on a summer's day What do you do when you don't have a clue And the only thing doing is nothing at all? 'Cept wait for night fall when the will of the wind Has its way in the gra** on a summer's day I'm just an old yout with a cane made of root And a dog with a nasal disease