Ben Folds - Doc Pomus lyrics

rate me

Man in a wheelchair in the lobby of the Forrest

With frighters, hustlers, hard-up millionaires

Mobsters, cops, whores, pimps and Marxists

All human life is there

Man in a wheelchair listens to the chatter

Writes down all the insane crap he hears

He can’t move around but it doesn’t really matter

In the Forrest all you need is eyes and ears

And out they pour, the hits and misses

Turn Me Loose, Lonely Avenue

And down in Nashville Elvis sings Suspicion

Pomus/Shuman, 1962

And he never could be one of those happy cripples

The kind that smile and tell you life’s OK

He was mad as hell, frightened and bitter

He found a way to make his feelings pay

Back at the Forrest, in the steakhouse off the lobby

Another diner gets three bullets in the head

Doc looks down and carries on eating his linguine

Tries to think up a lyric for the dead

Fred Neil, Jack Benny, and crazy Phil Spector

Pumpkin Juice and Eydie Gormé

Damon Runyon Jr. and the Duke’s orchestra

All superhuman life was there

And he never could be one of those happy cripples

The kind that smile and tell you life’s OK

He was mad as hell, frightened and bitter

He found a way to make his isolation pay