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He was selling postcards from a paper stand
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a whiskey bottle in his withered hand
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he put a finger on a photo from an old magazine
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and saw himself in the shadow of his dream
|
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They found him with his head inside a tin-pot crown
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told him his feet stank and took him downtown
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called him agitator, spy and thief
|
shut him up in solitary third degree
|
take a long line, reel him in
|
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He tried to appeal to the king of might
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he said "I'm just excercising my sacred right"
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the king he said "You ain't got no rights
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you're a madman, a traitor, get outta my sight"
|
take along line, reel him in
|
|
They put him aboard a well wound whirlwind
|
pulled out his teeth and rold him to grin
|
he gave them a smile, pulled out a bottle of wine
|
and said "I never existed, you've been wasting your time"
|
take a long line, reel him in
|
|
|
|
-----------------
|
Take A Long Line
|
| The Angels |
