As a writer I am known to philosophize You don’t expect tawdry scenes or cheesy lies But today there is something unusual in the air And it has driven me to the edges of despair

Everybody run for cover My pen got stuck in the gutter

It’s a condition I am not qualified to explain Something wicked and foul has taken hold of my brain In this foreign state I can hardly write high-minded prose I am fortunate I can write at all I suppose

Everybody run for cover My pen got stuck in the gutter

Now the lower reaches of my mind have been unlocked And to see the words I have written even I am shocked You would think I had been born in a chicken shack But once I write the words I can hardly take them back

Everybody run for cover My pen got stuck in the gutter

I do not expect to stay in this fever haze forever I will get back to the office one way or the other And when I do I hope I find that no one has been harmed But for the present know that forewarned is forearmed

Everybody run for cover My pen got stuck in the gutter