I've got a lot of blues on my mind

and at least a million miles behind me

and all that I've got between me

and pauper's hill

is a wrinkled, crincked, wadded dollar bill.



Lake Michigan wind sure is cold

and I need me a jacket for my shoulders

I could buy one down at the surplus store

cheap cotton twill

with my wrinckled crinckled wadded dollar bill



But I'm not bound

and I never will

be to a wrinkled crinckled wadded dollar bill.



It sure smells good at the bakery

and I stand and let the smell flood over me

they sell them day old cakes mighty cheeply

I could eat my fill

with my wrinkled, crinkled wadded dollar bill



But I'm not bound

and I never will

be to a wrinkled, crinkled wadded dollar bill.



Lake Michigan waves hit the beach

and I stand and let them wash at my feet

and then I throw it just as far as I can

into the chill

my wrinkled, crinkled wadded dollar bill.



For I'm not bound

and I never will

be to a wrinkled crinkled wadded dollar bill.



No I'm not bound

and I never will

be to a wrinkled crinkled wadded dollar bill.