Ten Cent Blues - Eisley

Dear orthodox

I can’t control my feelings

And who hit me?

I just might be

Coming round the bush

And my stilts, they began cracking

Subsequently pushed

And I looked to see that it was she

Just some abandoned little crook like me

Adieu, adieu, and fare thee well

This was the ending plea

Oh, whoa…

I was attached on bended knee

But I declined my leave

But who could blame

A fraction of her being?

She is cheesy, she is scrawny

With her uncanny styling

I’m teasing, she is pleasing

She just has no wit

And I’m sorry I don’t have her face

And I’m probably gonna lose this race

There is no doubt, she’s such a mouse

With such an abstract grace

Oh, whoa…

There is no cure, I am sure

For these ten cent blues

And then she chose to dissect me

And I was casted into poverty

But I did not agree with her

She said, «Now, you’ve got nerve.»

But I don’t care if I’m granted

For all these things

If I were one among this crowd

Would you call that defeat?

In a way, it’s making me crazy

In a sense that it’s making me stronger

A likely chance, and it’s probably proven

In the end, we’ll all walk away

Shaking hands on the doormat

I salute you, sir

A stranger end, a happy fit

So glad I’m part of it

And that I saw it all