Loudon Wainwright Iii Old Ballyhoo Lyrics

Mister, won't you lend a poor dime a cripple?
I'm about a thousand dollars from my home.
Ain't got no mile in my pocket, no head to poke my hole
through,
And I don't know where I'll die when I go to.
I have tried living in the valley and working at the
mill -
I like bootlegging better, running whiskey through
these hills.
Now I'm back down from the mountain, and living on the
bum.
If you've got change for five dollars, why don't you
give me some?
Mister, won't you lend a poor dime a cripple?
I'm about a thousand dollars from my home.
Ain't got no mile in my pocket, no head to poke my hole
through,
And I don't know where I'll die when I go to.
Hey, I could play in your theater, local church or corner bar -
Long as there's fun and money, I ain't too particular.
I can sing and dance and whistle, turn cartwheels
through the air,
And if I get too tight to stand upright, just tie me to
a chair.
Mister, won't you lend a poor dime a cripple?
I'm about a thousand dollars from my home.
Ain't got no mile in my pocket, no head to poke my hole
through,
And I don't know where I'll die when I go to.
Now when this song is over, gonna pass around my hat -
So won't you reach down deep inside - Hey, quiet in the
back!
Did you come to talk or listen, folks? Now everybody
hush!
'Cause when I hit that high note, I can make a statue
blush.