Tommy

Tommy had a watch, a good kind of watch

It wouldn't tell time if you asked it

Didn't have a face, just an ear and an eye

To see him with

Tommy stole candy from the cornerstore

And gave it to the mice he built a home for

By the side of the heater, next to his guitar

That he could neither play nor destroy

Tommy wrote a letter to the office of iniquity

Demanding a history of his actions

But the letter was returned just 2 days gone

There was no office of iniquity

Tommy couldn't see so well and he didn't have a radio

He'd talk to himself in different voices

Or sing to himself in a Russian dialect

Invented on a Sunday afternoon

Tommy stole a limp and he borrowed a demeanor

So he'd scare anybody who'd want to talk away

'Cause they frightened him so bad that he'd pee down his legs

As he tried, very hard, to find the words

Tommy wore the helmet of a frustrated miner

Digging for words as though gold

Standing in the mud in his dark gray fedora

Wearing his knee-patched dungarees

Tommy was alone when the fire started

High behind the wheel of a colt 45

With a clip full of ether and a bucket full of gas

And a belly full of turpentine

Tommy made sure there was no one in danger

By knocking on each door like a madman

Then he locked himself in and did the whirling dervish

Tipped the candle over on the floor

Tommy fell asleep before the firemen came

Which was good because they scared him anyway

All that they found were the mice inside the fridge

In a box, with some cheese

And a handwarmer, run on batteries

Tommy was a good man. Nobody Knew

Tommy was a good man. Nobody Knew