He was selling
postcards from
a paper stand
A whiskey bottle in
his withered hand
He put a finger
on a photo from
an old magazine
And saw himself
in the shadow
of his dream
They found him
with his head inside
a tin-pot crown
Told him his
feet stank and
took him downtown
Called him agitator,
spy and thief
Shut him up in
solitary, third degree
Take a long line
Take a long line
Take a long line,
reel him in
He tried to appeal to
the king of might
he said "I'm just
exercising my
sacred right"
The king he said
"You ain't got no right
You're a madman,
a traitor, get outta
my sight
Take a long line
Take a long line
Take a long line,
reel him in
They found him
with his head inside
a tin-pot crown
Told him his
feet stank and
took him downtown
Called him agitator,
spy and thief
Shut him up in
solitary, third degree
They put him aboard a
well wound whirlwind
Pulled out his teeth
and told him to grin
He gave them a smile,
pulled out
a bottle of wine
And said
"I never existed,
you've been
wasting your time"
Take a long line
Take a long line
Take a long line,
reel him in
Take a long line
Take a long line
Take a long line,
reel him in
Take a long line
Take a long line
Take a long line,
reel him in