Pink Floyd - Nobody Home Lyrics
I got a little black book with my poems in.Got a bag, got a toothbrush and a comb.When Im a good dog they sometimes throw me a bone.I got elastic bands keeping my shoes on.Got those swollen hands blues.Got thirteen channels of shit on the 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,Therell 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.Ive got wild, staring eyes.And I got a strong urge to fly,But I got nowhere to fly to (-- fly to... fly to... fly to...).Ooooo babe,When I pick up the phone,Theres still nobody home.I got a pair of gohill boots,And I got fading roots.