[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
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
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