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Phony Drunken Poet
by Filthy Thieving Bastards

[NOTE: Lyrics are not necessarily complete or accurate. < >s indicate areas of uncertainty in the lyrics. Edits and corrections welcome.]

In the last days of September,
Winds were blowing down our blocks.
Knocking down, the dead old trees
Rocking ferries and the docks.

Popped a benny, drank some beers
then pissed off the fucking pier.
They cursed the god who made the winds
of piss drenched shoes and socks

Lend me this month's rent, my dad just bought a round.
You'll get your money right before I leave this town.
Lend me this month's rent, I'm working underground.
Claiming all my riches, at the lost and found.

For a while I was painting houses,
In San Francisco coastal lots.
In the evening I would drink my wages,
on the weekends, down the slots.

The bartender raved at me
over a lousy cup of tea
"You must be a phony drunken poet,
'cause I've fucked all the jocks and cops!"


My dad just needs to get some air,
he's underneath the vents
He's begging for a chair and he'll lend me,
This month's rent,
This month's rent!

My friends are all stoned and booking venues
while I'm lying on the floor.
My dad worked for 35 years,
I believe I'll work for more.

I < caught ___ > with a shot
Then I < chased > with what I got
If you are waiting for me,
< Your ____ > the fucking door.


Contributed by Elijah Y. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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a manx ca

" dad worked for 35 years I believe I'll work for more.."