Nobody home

Uitvoerende(n): Pink Floyd
Tekst: Roger Waters

I got a little black book with my poems in
Got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in
When I'm a good dog, they sometimes throw me a bone in

I got elastic bands keepin' my shoes on
Got those swollen hand blues
I got thirteen channels of shit on my TV to choose from

I got electric light
And I got second sight
Got amazing powers of observation
And that is how I know
When I try to get through
On the telephone to you
There'll be nobody home

I got the obligatory Hendrix perm
And the inevitable pinhole burns
All down the front of my favorite satin shirt

I got nicotine stains on my fingers
I got a silver spoon on a chain
Got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains

I got wild staring eyes
And I got a strong urge to fly
But I got nowhere to fly to
Ooh, babe, when I pick up the phone
There's still nobody home

I got a pair of Gohills boots
and I got fading roots


Copyright © 2011 Wim Scherpenisse <>