Statue With A Walkman

He's a statue with a walkman

Knows his hemoglobin count

Statue with a walkman

Also the correct amount

Pretty boy, pretty walkman, pretty sound

He's a statue with a walkman

Actually, he's lying down

Statue with a walkman

Butterflies upon his crown

Pretty day, pretty rooster, pretty sound

He's a statue with a walkman

Basking in the dying rays

Statue with a walkman

Hardly moves at all these days

We're all different versions of the same thing

We're all different versions of the same thing

Yeah, they say that old statue with a walkman, he don't seem to

get around like he used to.Don't see him in the forest, near

the clearing, where the kindly old lady lives.Don't see him

moseying up to the three bears saying, "Mind if I join you?"

Don't see him leaning over the shoulder of Goldilocks as she

ruffles through the hip-hop section at Sam Goody.Don't see

him perched on the Town Hall looking sheepish with a parachute,

thinking, "It's made of silk.Ain't made of milk.But it won't

get me to the ground, 'cause I'm stuck on the roof."No.

Don't see him inside the library books trying to look up

Irving Berlin in the section for sixteenth century literature.

No! Fact is, friends, and I'm telling you in confidence 'cause

I know no one gonna to hear that, some of the young hippies in

town, they came to me and they said, "We don't believe there

ever been a statue with a walkman." I said, "You ever seen Death?"

Statue with a walkman

Vanished like the trilobite

Statue with a walkman

Birds upon his head alight

Pretty boy, pretty loser, pretty sound

Pretty day, pretty walkman, pretty sound

Aah aah

Aah

Yeah, I was 'round at the Judge's house just the other night.

Me and that old judge, we was sittin' either side of a big barrel

of creosote.And I was matching him ladle for ladle, you know.

First he'd take a pull on that old barrel and he'd... he wouldn't

say nothin', he'd just proffer it to me as befits a man of his

dignity, yes.And I'd take a hit of that old creosote and I'd

hand it back to him and hours would just drift by.And to make

it all more memorable we was listening to Don Henley records

digitally remastered on CD. Well, seems like our bliss could

have gone on uninterrupted for decades.You know how time seems

to dwindle and stop when you're having fun in the middle of the

night with a wealthy man. But just then I heard me a little

clicking outside.And I said, "Judge? You hear that?" And he

said, "You get it, boy.I make more money than you." Well, I

deposited my ladle in that old barrel and I strode to the window

to observe what could be taking place outside of the window.

First I pealed back lovingly the French window curtains then

I pushed open the windows themselves.There was a light summer

breeze, it was July the twenty-ninth.The stars were twinkling

and on the rich jeweled gravel terrace, there, stood that old

statue with a walkman reading a book to himself in the moonlight.

Yeah.