... a little black book with my poems in
    Got a bag with toothbrush and a comb in
    I'm a good dog they sometimes throw me a bone in
    I got elastic bands keeping my shoes on
    Got those swollen hand blues
    I've got 13 channels of shit on the T.V. to choose from
    I've got electric light
    And I've got second sight
    I've got amazing powers of observation
    And that is how I know
    When I try to get through
    On the telephone to you
    There'll be nobody home

    I've got the obligatory Hendrix Perm
    And the inevitable pinhole burns
    All down the front of my favourite satin shirt
    I've got nicotine stains on my fingers
    I've got a silver spoon on a chain
    Got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains
    I've got wild staring eyes
    And I've got a strong urge to fly
    But I've got nowhere to fly to
    Ooh Babe when I pick up the phone
    There's still nobody home

    I've got a pair of Gohills boots
    And I've got fading roots...
        [Pink Floyd, Nobody Home]

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