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"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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