Onion Soup

Thin and unshaved
Drunk and mysterious
Oh, I must say
Lifestyle is curious
With a little touch of the sniffles
And filthy socks
Gnawed, crumbled fingernails
Never doing tomahawk chops
Flaky head
Dandruff is distinguished
Laquer is red
Vain is the varnish

"What is at the root of this?"
She'll say "whatcha got?"
"What participle do you possess?
She'll say "which I have not!"
One blustery day
We rode out to the meadowlands
We saw and were amazed
Then hauled it back into town again

Mississippi is a mess sometimes
And not only when it rains
How come you went back to that malaria island
'Cause our friendship is strained

Those were the days
When you were so cosmopolitan
These are the days
My letters they're so increasingly maudlin

I wrote you an eloquent postcard once
About this most exquisite onion soup
But, of course I never mailed it though
Cause it was your turn in the loop