by Bud Smith
i am the true believer
i am the true believer
give me a tuna fish sandwich
a paper carton of yoohoo
and the keys to the Chrysler
i am the true believer
i got hands custom molded
to fit on your golden breasts
on ripe golden apples
and down your polyester pants
i am the true believer
i am the true believer
loan me a fin and a lighter
a deck of cards with naked girls
a bottle to break against the chicken wire
legend has it that i am the true believer
i’ve got a leaky faucet and i don’t care
i’ve got bubble gum to put in your hair
the dead are dead for a reason
we are alive, i am a strummer
you are a whistler
you are without doubt.
i am the true believer
this town used to have a highway
now it’s just got a corner store and a river
all the bombs land somewhere else
all the killer dragons descend elsewhere
I am here to take out the trash
you are here to do the dishes
you are the thick elixir
that makes of me a true believer