He was selling postcards from a paper stand

a whiskey bottle in his withered hand

he put a finger on a photo from an old magazine

and saw himself in the shadow of his dream



They found him with his head inside a tin-pot crown

told him his feet stank and took him downtown

called him agitator, spy and thief

shut him up in solitary third degree

take a long line, reel him in



He tried to appeal to the king of might

he said "I'm just excercising my sacred right"

the king he said "You ain't got no rights

you're a madman, a traitor, get outta my sight"

take along line, reel him in



They put him aboard a well wound whirlwind

pulled out his teeth and rold him to grin

he gave them a smile, pulled out a bottle of wine

and said "I never existed, you've been wasting your time"

take a long line, reel him in