I Shall Be Free No. 10

Now, I'm just average, common too
 I'm just like him, the same as you
 I'm everybody's brother and son
 I ain't different than anyone
 Ain't no use to talk to me
 It's just the same as talking to you
 ♪
 I was shadow-boxing earlier in the day
 I figured I was ready for Cassius Clay
 I said, "Fee, fie, fo, fum, Cassius Clay, here I come
 26, 27, 28, 29, I'm gonna make your face look just like mine
 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Cassius Clay, you better run
 99, 100, 101, 102, your ma won't even recognize you
 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, gonna knock him clean right out of his spleen"
 Well, I don't know, but I've been told
 The streets of heaven are lined with gold
 I ask you how things could get much worse
 If the Russians happen to get up there first
 Wowee, pretty scary
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 Now, I'm liberal, but to a degree, I want everybody to be free
 But if you think I'll let Barry Goldwater
 Move in next door and marry my daughter
 You must think I'm crazy
 I wouldn't let him do it for all the farms in Cuba
 ♪
 Well, I set my monkey on the log and ordered him to do the Dog
 He wagged his tail and shook his head
 And he went and did the Cat instead
 He's a weird monkey, very funky
 ♪
 I sat with my high-heeled sneakers on
 Waiting to play tennis in the noonday sun
 I had my white shorts rolled up past my waist
 And my wig-hat was falling in my face
 But they wouldn't let me on the tennis court
 ♪
 I got a woman, she's so mean
 She sticks my boots in the washing machine
 Sticks me with buckshot when I'm nude
 Puts bubblegum in my food
 She's funny, wants my money, calls me honey
 ♪
 Now, I got a friend who spends his life
 Stabbing my picture with a bowie-knife
 Dreams of stranglin' me with a scarf
 When my name comes up he pretends to barf
 I've got a million friends
 ♪
 Now, they asked me to read a poem at the sorority sister's home
 I got knocked down and my head was swimmin'
 I wound up with the Dean of Women
 Yippee, I'm a poet, I know it, hope I don't blow it
 ♪
 I'm gonna grow my hair down to my feet, so strange
 So I look like a walking mountain range
 And I'm gonna ride into Omaha on a horse
 Out to the country club and the golf course
 Carryin' the New York Times, shoot a few holes, blow their minds
 ♪
 Well, you're probably wondering by now
 Just what this song is all about
 What's probably got you baffled more is what this thing here is for
 It's nothin', it's somethin' I learned over in England