Willie the Weeper
Folks, here's a story 'bout Willie the Weeper.
When he works he's a chimney sweeper.
Mostly he he lays ‘round a table
talkin’ ‘bout what he’ll do soon as he's able.
All the Smokeys' dreamin'; Willie most of all.
Mostly dreamin' the worlds' at his beck and call.
Every day he takes at least a dozen pills.
Figures it cures all his aches and ills.
He's got it, got it bad.
Listen, while I tell you 'bout a dream he had:
Soon as he gets smokin’, he falls asleep.
One night he was sailin’ on the ocean deep.
He woke up in the river Nile
ridin' on a feathered crocodile.
Cleopatra was there with the Queen of Sheba.
They gave him everything he’d been a needin’.
Bought him an orchard full of diamond trees
and a whole lot of friends to keep him company.
He turned around, took another smoke.
Smoked it gone. Woke up broke.
Back to chimney sweepin' just like before.
Turns up bangin' at his womans’ door.
First he kissed her, but she made him pout,
when...bing, bang, bing...the smoke gave out.
Now thats' the story of Willie the Weeper.
When he works he's a chimney sweeper.
Some day a pill too many he'll take
and dreaming he’s dead he’ll forget to wake.

