Jump Up

Everybody’s talking like they can’t sit down And looking like they can’t stand up It must be the latest style And they’ve seen a lot of things that you never see Back on the mile up to the hanging tree     Some people can’t keep their fingers clean                                                     - - Just clicking their heels to the beat of the scene Trying to keep careen until the first edition of last night’s obituaries Jump up - hold on tight Can’t trust a promise or a guarantee ’Cause the man ’round the curve says that he’s never heard of you or me       No tombstone would ever surprise me When I’m locked in a room about half the size of a matchbox Got holes in my socks    They match the ones that I got in my feet     I put my feet in the holes in the street and somebody paved me over I was a statue standing on the corner                                                            - - Tell me how else can a boy get to see those pretty pleats? Candidate talking on the radio from the "Cheaters Jamboree" He must be their latest fool ’Cause it’s a two-horse race and he changes bets Like it was just another brand of cigarettes     Some people judge then they just guess the rest                                                          - - They can’t understand it don’t mean that you’re blessed They ought to catch the Express Next Stop No Where That way you can’t forget Jump up - hold on tight Can’t trust a promise or a guarantee ’Cause the man ’round the curve says that he’s never heard of you or me.