Tip Jar Blues

Well, I got five bucks in my pocket
And I haven't changed in days
Got half a chocolate bar left
I need a man who pays

I got more time than money
And I can sell everybody's honey
I got this drum to beat on
And I wear a hammer on my waist

I can deal with scales and letters
Got my talents on display
One chance is all that matters
I got the skills to pay my bills
GIMME THAT JOB

I run around like a headless chicken
And I smoked my last cigar
I called up every kitchen
Every funeral home and bar

I can work part-time underground
And I can burn the midnight oil
I'm used to work for meals and tips
It's a town on acid soil

But then I got this gig tonight
I just walked in with my guitar
And figured he was different from the mob
All I said was: GIMME THAT JOB

Well, I'm a man with hands and feet
I got my brains and I got my dreams
I got these strings to pull in time
I got my tongue to sing in rhymes
I wanna take my girl to Rio
And I wanna buy her a new coat
So don't forget the tip jar
For the sake of my sore throat

Well, I'm a man with hands and feet
I got my brains and I got my dreams
I got these strings to pull in time
I got my tongue to sing in rhymes
I wanna take my band to Rio
And I wanna feed them on the road
So don't forget the tip jar
For the sake of my sore throat