Sometimes, the words, they don’t, like, they just… um, look, like uh, I can say this, like, and you’ll hear something else, and, if you’re listening, and I know how sometimes I like, I can - they can jump - my thoughts, I mean, they jump around, I know it. I get it. But my point is, my point, I mean, they are, it is, it’s, it’s also all about context. The context is critical, um, sometimes, or it can be. Good God, how can this possibly work? It’s amazing we’re still alive. Maybe let’s get something to eat?

I like strong coffee I like strong tea
I like a strong-willed woman making love to me
I like a big ol’ river and a lazy horse
Lord I cant get across

I…
I…
I…
I just can’t get across

I like my evenings warm and mellow
Waking up with my baby when the suns all yellow
I don’t mind saying that I’m a lucky fella
I just can’t get across

Like a blindfold bat like a punchy mule
Like a drunken arrow like a babbling fool
Like a TV talker when his notes getslost
Lord I can’t get across

There’s things I know and things I don’t
Things I’ll say and things I won’t
I had a point to make but it done got lost
Lord I can’t get across

I don’t like trouble I don’t like worry
I don’t like having to think in a hurry
I don’t like flies in my applesauce
Lord I can’t get across