Still scowling black, good captain Clack
Must eat his humble pie
His bed is made, the colors fade
His eyes once wet are dry
The naked muse who sits and chews
Tobacco off a tree
Removes his shoes, gives way to booze
And searches endlessly
See the naked jumberlack sip his aphrodisiac
Cotton-picking farmers three
Though I'd lost my weather vane
And of sense I have one grain
I'm content sipping lemon tea
Still scowling black, good captain Clack
Must eat his humble pie
His bed is made, the colors fade
His eyes once wet are-
