Statue With A Walkman Lyrics

He's a statue with a walkman
Knows his hemoglobin count
Statue with a walkman
Also the correct amount

Pretty boy, pretty walkman, pretty sound

He's a statue with a walkman
Actually, he's lying down
Statue with a walkman
Butterflies upon his crown

Pretty day, pretty rooster, pretty sound

He's a statue with a walkman
Basking in the dying rays
Statue with a walkman
Hardly moves at all these days

We're all different versions of the same thing
We're all different versions of the same thing

[spoken]
Yeah, they say that old statue with a walkman, he don't seem to
get around like he used to.Don't see him in the forest, near
the clearing, where the kindly old lady lives.Don't see him
moseying up to the three bears saying, "Mind if I join you?"
Don't see him leaning over the shoulder of Goldilocks as she
ruffles through the hip-hop section at Sam Goody.Don't see
him perched on the Town Hall looking sheepish with a parachute,
thinking, "It's made of silk.Ain't made of milk.But it won't
get me to the ground, 'cause I'm stuck on the roof."No.
Don't see him inside the library books trying to look up
Irving Berlin in the section for sixteenth century literature.
No! Fact is, friends, and I'm telling you in confidence 'cause
I know no one gonna to hear that, some of the young hippies in
town, they came to me and they said, "We don't believe there
ever been a statue with a walkman." I said, "You ever seen Death?"

Statue with a walkman
Vanished like the trilobite Statue with a walkman
Birds upon his head alight

Pretty boy, pretty loser, pretty sound
Pretty day, pretty walkman, pretty sound

Aah aah
Aah

[spoken]
Yeah, I was 'round at the Judge's house just the other night.
Me and that old judge, we was sittin' either side of a big barrel
of creosote.And I was matching him ladle for ladle, you know.
First he'd take a pull on that old barrel and he'd... he wouldn't
say nothin', he'd just proffer it to me as befits a man of his
dignity, yes.And I'd take a hit of that old creosote and I'd
hand it back to him and hours would just drift by.And to make
it all more memorable we was listening to Don Henley records
digitally remastered on CD. Well, seems like our bliss could
have gone on uninterrupted for decades.You know how time seems
to dwindle and stop when you're having fun in the middle of the
night with a wealthy man. But just then I heard me a little
clicking outside.And I said, "Judge? You hear that?" And he
said, "You get it, boy.I make more money than you." Well, I
deposited my ladle in that old barrel and I strode to the window
to observe what could be taking place outside of the window.
First I pealed back lovingly the French window curtains then
I pushed open the windows themselves.There was a light summer
breeze, it was July the twenty-ninth.The stars were twinkling
and on the rich jeweled gravel terrace, there, stood that old
statue with a walkman reading a book to himself in the moonlight.
Yeah.

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