Robyn Hitchcock I Am This Thing
I owe a lot to a dead man's cock
Tick tock, tick tock
I love to rock
I am this thing
I come at a price like egg fried rice
Every Sunday morning
And it's ever so nice
I am this thing
I am I am this
This thing
I am I am this
This thing
I am I am this
How's about you?
I say what? I say words!
I love the music of the Byrds
I grew from seed, a fleshy seed
I am alone in thought and deed
I am I am this
This thing
I am I am this
This thing
I am I am this
How's about you?
My head's on my spine at the end of the line
I do a lot of thinking
And the thinking is fine
Wah wah wacka wah
Doobie doobie dum dum yeah
I grew out of somebody else
She wore a wedding ring
And when I decompose I will be
Part of everything
I am I am this
This thing
I am I am this
This thing
I am I am this
How's about you?
Touch me and I'm gone
Touch me and I'm gone baby
Touch me and I'm gone
Touch me and I'm gone baby
‘Cause I am this thing!
