'You know that five in every four won't amount to nothin' more except a lousy janitor, unless their uncle owns the store,
So watch the rats crawl 'cross the floor, and make up songs 'bout bein poor...
Blow yr harmonica, son...'
(,
Thu 14 Apr 2011, 20:06,
archived)
So watch the rats crawl 'cross the floor, and make up songs 'bout bein poor...
Blow yr harmonica, son...'