Get That Moolah

I hear the blues blaring in my head keeping time with the rhythmic beating of my heart
He says, you hammer away like a woodpecker at a tree I say why would I have to be

Mr. and Mrs. Perfect writing off into the sunset
Beset with other concerns can't keep up with the jet set; let me get a taste of java wet from the shower – like frost you turn the sweetest flower to dust
I live on a different planet ~ the moon of the desert sun

Pull out your clarinet and riff me some of them blues
Forget about frettin