I´m just average, common too
I´m just like him, the same as you
I´m everybody´s brother and son
I ain´t different from anyone
It ain´t no use a-talking to me
It´s just the same as talking to you

I was shadow-boxing earlier in the day
I figured I was ready for Cassius Clay
I said “Fee, fie, fo, fum, Cassius Clay, here I come
26, 27, 28, 29, I´m gonna make your face look just like mine
Five, four, three, two, one, Cassius Clay you´d better run
99, 100, 101, 102, your ma won´t even recognize you
14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, gonna knock him clean right out of his spleen”

Well, I don´t know, but I´ve been told
The streets in heaven are lined with gold
I ask you how things could get much worse
If the Russians happen to get up there first
Wowee! pretty scary!

Now, I´m liberal, but to a degree
I want ev´rybody to be free
But if you think that I´ll let Barry Goldwater
Move in next door and marry my daughter
You must think I´m crazy!
I wouldn´t let him do it for all the farms in Cuba

Well, I set my monkey on the log
And ordered him to do the Dog
He wagged his tail and shook his head
And he went and did the Cat instead
He´s a weird monkey, very funky

I sat with my high-heeled sneakers on
Waiting to play tennis in the noonday sun
I had my white shorts rolled up past my waist
And my wig-hat was falling in my face
But they wouldn´t let me on the tennis court

I got a woman, she´s so mean
She sticks my boots in the washing machine
Sticks me with buckshot when I´m nude
Puts bubblegum in my food
She´s funny, wants my money, calls me “honey”

Now I got a friend who spends his life
Stabbing my picture with a bowie knife
Dreams of strangling me with a scarf
When my name comes up he pretends to barf
I´ve got a million friends!

Now they asked me to read a poem
At the sorority sisters´ home
I got knocked down and my head was swimmin´
I wound up with the Dean of Women
Yippee! I´m a poet, and I know it
Hope I don´t blow it

I´m gonna grow my hair down to my feet so strange
So I look like a walking mountain range
And I´m gonna ride into Omaha on a horse
Out to the country club and the golf course
Carry The New York Times, shoot a few holes, blow their minds

Now you´re probably wondering by now
Just what this song is all about
What´s probably got you baffled more
Is what this thing here is for
It´s nothing
It´s something I learned over in England