Mr. Jones' Bank

He said, Listen Miss, I'm not complaining
But my bank account is wrong
And the bird outside my window
Isn't singing the right song
Got a Mirror in the bathroom
That doesn't recognize my face
And my dentist in the city
Can't see me yet today

Won't you change all of the zero's
Won't you look into your eight ball
Won't you Give me just a quarter
So I can give My "Boy" a call

See, I've got a dream in Europe
And I bought three thousand shares
And my whole face now is throbbing
Please see that my retirement is spared

Be a dove, little voice
Find my way out of paper
Take me down the street into her arms
Take me up again
My desk is full of this nightmare

And I say, Mr. Jones
You know, I've never felt that kind of pain
But this kind of life isn't a game
It isn't a wheel on wall street
Calling your name
(That's what I wanted badly to say...)

But instead, I said I'm sorry about your Toothache
I hope you'll see your Dentist real soon,
Is there anything else
I
can

Do