"Mister Faust Buys An Empty Suit" genre: Folk
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	What's an empty suit? Someone gets home, takes off their suit, puts it in the closet and there's Nobody home...could be a professor or two I've had, a politician without a personal hobby. On rare bad days, it might even be a bench busker...sans guitar!
	CD: Elvis Is Coming Back   Label: Kolo Records Credits: Jesse - Guitar, Dewayne Schunn - Electric Lap Steel Guitar
	Story Behind the Song What San Francisco columnist Herb Caen (he coined "beatnik" and "hippie"...) called the "SCAM WHAT AM" - this is a lampoon, you tell me what the lyrics mean. Dewayne Schunn selected a lap steel guitar from his collection of antique lap steel guitars, and added a very tasty sound...ZOUNDS! He good!!! Lyrics Yuppies ain't nothin' but empty suits Dressed up in Gucci boots/instead of those old Florsheims Take away the charge plates And there go the large gates/in front of that elegant residence Take away the sweet deals The just can't be beat deals/they come and go like the presidents Yuppies ain't nothin' but new recruits Dressed up in snazzy suits/scramblin' for nickels and dimes Remember those button down collars Mutt and Jeff and Dollars/ that really were worth their weight? Remember those wing-tip brougham shoes? I sing these blue collar blues/about them right to work states Yuppies eat nothin' but bamboo shoots And other gourmet roots/marinated in key limes So wise up and forget the Beatles Buy into the future/of all that's fab and gear Grow up and forget the Rolling Stone Don't'cha know, Spin Magazine is what's in this year Yuppies ain't nothin' but those who loot Without having to shoot/pens perpetrate the worst of crimes You're a disgrace, if you get to fat a face So, take your case into the ring/watch for that left hand jab Yes, take your place in a real rat race For some space, Mr. and Mrs. Jones/get in on that deft land grab Yuppies ain't nothin' but a brand new label As far as I am able/to play around with these rhymes So, come, smoke a spliff Watch'm sell the old stock/right on down to the lock and the barrel Turn a new leaf, live in a grass hut And watch'm dance/in nothin' but a barrel for apparel Turn a new leaf, live in a glass hut And watch'm dance in nothin'...

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