Pop Vulture

I'm a pinball wizard in a yellow submarine 

I'm a honky cat in an electric dream 

I'm a wild thing playing on a tambourine 

Man, I was the lover of the Russian Queen 

I was raised in the House of the Rising Sun 

I don't like Mondays and I have a warm gun 

with hot legs like these I was born to run 

I'm leaving on a jet plane it's a quarter after one 

I'm hungry like a wolf, and I cry like a dove 

God only knows, under the moon above 

Put my helmet on and it fits like a glove 

Saturday's for fighting but it's Friday I'm in love 

I never kept my face in a jar by the door 

I shot the Sheriff, and I fought the law 

I won't be a hero when two tribes go to war 

through the barricades, I can't take it any more

Can't get no satisfaction from the Memphis blues 

I cried me a river on my blue suede shoes 

I'm a champagne supernova, I'm yesterday's news 

I'm an afternoon delight on the Heartache Avenue

I was born in a crossfire hurricane

I'd do anything for love but you're just so vain

I'm a Johnny come lately, you're my Lady Jane

You leave me hanging on the telephone 

again and again

I'm the Wichita lineman, you could make me a star 

or a fool on the hill with my weeping guitar 

You could be my baby, you could drive my car 

but you're working as a waitress in a cocktail bar

Steve Wheeler © 12 April, 2021

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