I'm a-feelin like a tin pan alley song,
The words are all right but my music's all wrong.
Every other note tends to slide
My plectrum plays like a gong.
And each f-sharp on my blues harp
Is crying like a pig on a guillotine
And every call for freedom
Is just a silent, wordless scream...
But the words are right,
Oh yeah, they're so right
That I just can't help singing this song
So, tell me true, would any of you
Perhaps - you know - like to sing along?
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