Cold Dog Soup Guy Clark

[Verse]
Now William Butler Yeats in jeans
Got up to play guitar and sing
In some joint in Mission Beach last night
At the door sat Tom Waits
In a pork pie hat and silver skates
And he's juggling three collection plates, Jesus Christ

[Verse]
Townes Van Zandt standing at the bar
Skinning a Hollywood movie star
And he can't remember where he parked his car
Or to whom he lost the keys
But he's full of angst and hillbilly haiku
What's a poor Ft. Worth boy to do?
Go on, rhyme something for 'em, man
Show 'em how you really feel

[Chorus]
There ain't no money in poetry
That's what sets the poet free
I've had all the freedom I can stand
You got your 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