Junky Hotel

At the Junky Hotel
things be goin' swell 
All the cats be groovin',
goin' to rack and ruin.

They feel it in their bones,
they know it from their jones.
Got the rhythm, got the beat,
can feel it in their feet.

They're dancin' on the sidewalk,
are boppin' til they drop.
They're writin' prose 'n poems,
are countin' O's in Oms.

Got to tap their feet,
Got to take it to the street.
Gonna chew their lips,
put their hands upon their hips.

Gonna shake a while 'n shiver,
maybe aggravate their livers,
but hey they gonna give 'er.
Gonna g-g-g-g-give 'er.

Cos at the Junky Hotel
ain't nobody gonna tell.
There ain't no need to shout
cos folks be noddin' out.

The artists are in residence,
holes be in their presidents.
Yeah! Things be goin' well
at the Junky Hotel.

Gonna wash this little spoon,
sing a melancholy tune.
Gonna light that little wick,
swirl your swizzle stick.

Yeah!Ê Folks here gotta notion
to jump in Billie's ocean.
They try to fly with Bird,
are hip to every word.

Ground Hog he's tall and skinny,
and when the horse trot up, he whinny.
L.D. Fred and Sledge
got to have that certain edge 


They be bobbin', drinkin' java,
feel the molten lava
burn into their jangled nerves,
new circuits and slow curves.

Got no property or homes,
no cars and no bank loans.
Won't be needin' phones,
gew gaws or garden gnomes.

Got no paunches, pots, or bellies;
long since hocked their tellies.
Things be peachy here and groovy,
move like shadows in a movie.

Sittin' on a park bench in the sun,
now things be one-plus-one.
Folks be funky with their jones,
so down they just be bones.