Every time I turn the radio on some cat's singing a happy song
About a woman who wakes him up every morning and loves him
Scrambles his eggs and unscrambles his life
Butters his toast with a golden knife
Bears his kids and nearly bout all of his burdens
And I just sit there staring at the wall wondering how I missed it all
I've been out half of the night and I'm hung over
Nobody woke me rubbing my feet
Just the sound of a jackhammer out in the street
And this ole room ain't exactly a field of clover
No one to love and make me happy call me baby or call me pappy
Suffering son of a gun left in the world
Every time I turn the radio on some cat's singing a happy song
About the woman who serves him love on a silver platter
Makes his coffee sweet and warm
Holds him in her loving arms
I look in the mirror and I wonder what's the matter
No one to love and make me happy call me baby or call me pappy
Suffering son of a gun left in the world