By Mark Bromberg
oh give me a home
where capricorns ‘n tumbleweeds blow
the stars are just skeleton dust
that includes milk of magnesia
uranium and neptune
I want milk n’ mashed potatoes
n’ I don’t mean tomorrow
like now right now like now
n’ I’ll whip you up something special
Tomorrow may be too too late
for you to help me with my needs
I don’t paint a pretty picture
spring n’ summer are just two seasons
it gets dark when the sun goes down
tryin’ to have a civilization here
still don’t count for much
I want milk n’ mashed potatoes
before I whip myself into a frenzy
I live in a town full of people
they don’t look at each other twice
how’m I supposed to make a living
with automobiles parked outside
the things go forwards ‘n backwards
but I still don’t get a word of advice
I want milk n’ mashed potatoes
but a yam will do
Clutching at Straws 