I dance to a different drummer, tootle my own horn.But you were the pick of the litter, the cream of the crop.So I stroked your ego, ran interference, held your coat,And saluted what you ran up your flagpole.Yet you lead me down the garden path, laughing up your sleeve,While I hung on every word. I gave youThe best years of my life, my right arm, my eyeteeth.All you managed was the Polo off your back.Oh, I looked for you yesterday and here you came today.No, you played it close to the vest. No harm no foul.You were a snowbird, the cock of the walk,The bull goose in the catbird’s seat. I’m in the zone,You gloated. You saw the ball and were the ball!You were the cat that swallowed the canary!Meanwhile, I painted myself into a corner,Up creek sans paddle, gone colderThan a witches’ tit in a brass brassier.Counted my chickens and found em up on the porchWith the big dogs. Fold you tent, you sneered.You’re all hat and no herd. Don’t know from Shinola!Couldn’t pour piss outa a boot!Your about three brick shy of a load!Talk is cheap. I didn’t fall off the turnip truckJust yesterday, ya know. Been down so long it looksLike up to me. Whoa, Nellie! Shoot and yell shit!Besides, it’s too wet to plough. And ya know,You got to dance with them who brung ya.So I kept powder dry, eyeball peeled, noseTo grindstone, ear to Old Terra Firma.Didn’t stick my neck out except to get the layOf the land. Didn’t walk the walk or talk the talk.Didn’t spit into the wind while whistling Dixie.No, way. I’m not goin to fish or cut bait-- just lay lowTo see which way the wind is blowing.I aint walkin point for nobody, no more.You know what they say—Garbage in, Garbage out.Any landing you walk away from is a good landing.Good pitching beats good hitting. No man is an island.Only a fool hires himself as his lawyer.
Hide and wait. You aint seen nothing yet!