A Mid-Life Crisis Story

A Mid-Life Crisis Story 

Hey I’m the guy with the Ph.D. 
I took it all the way to MIT 
I been thinkin’ since the age of three 
I wrote my thesis on how to be free 

They gave me money for the things that I said 
The words tumbled out and cluttered up their heads 
Take out the garbage, turn out the lights 
I couldn’t feel my fingers, my face was kinda tight 

I stopped believin’ in the power of cognition 
Took up salmon and steelhead fishin’ 
I came to know my true ambition: 
To be a songwriter under one condition 

I take no money for the songs that I write 
Just let ‘em tumble out and clutter up the place 
Take out the garbage and turn on the lights 
I need to feel my fingers, I’ve got to find my face 

I’ll conjure images to make you jump 
Add some rhythm, you’ll grind and bump 
It’s true love, honey, meet me in the sky 
We won’t need any money, there’s nothin’ there to buy 

We won’t need nothin’ but the songs that I write 
We’ll let ‘em tumble out and stink up the place 
Take out the garbage and turn on the lights 
I’ll watch my fingers and you can watch my face 

No money, nothin’ wrong, just another song 
The words tumble out and fall where they belong 
Take out the garbage, turn on the lights 
I’m gonna watch my fingers, you better watch me