Yellow Dirt

He gets up every morning

And he lights upon the floor

Then migrates to the washroom

And he opens up the door

The whiskers on his chin tell him he's in and then

Through the paste and the soap

He sees his image without hope

He's a broom of a fellow

An oddity in parenthesis

So infected with disease of yellow dirt down in his soul

He usually spends his spare time

Counting hairs upon his arm

The ants around the cupboard

To his thinking add their charm

He never stops to notice

That his shoes are fulla lead

He's dead through cough

And labored breathing he is seething

He's a sandwich of a fellow

An all-spread personality

So infected with disease of yellow dirt down in his soul

Last night a thousand stars were his

To mold like clay and so

In one split second's anger

He did reach and take a hold

He saw himself a captain way off on some kissin' situation

That would have made his father proud

He laughs out loud

He conceals the hurt

He reveals the dirt

The yellow dirt down in his soul

Yellow dirt down in his soul

Yellow dirt down in his soul

Yellow dirt down in his soul

He's got his dirt down in his soul

He's got his dirt down in his soul, now, now

He's got his dirt down in his soul

He's got his dirt down in his soul, now, now

He's got his dirt down in his soul

It would have made his father proud

He laughs out loud

He conceals the hurt

He reveals the dirt

The yellow dirt down in his soul

Yellow dirt down in his soul

Yellow dirt down in his soul

Yellow dirt down in his soul

Yellow dirt down in his soul

Yellow dirt down in his soul

Yellow dirt down in his soul