You Don't Know My Name - Wayne Kramer

Driving down the boulevard on thursday afternoon

A german shepherd’s yappin' like a saturday cartoon.

Saw you at the record store posing for the press,

Smiling like a buddah in a purple minidress.

You can’t talk my talk

You can’t walk my walk

You can’t feel my pain

You don’t know my name

You’re dancing like a diplomat in bruno magli shoes

I’m living at the laundramat and trying to stay amused

A silver dollar in your mouth and an apple in your hand

And your throwing me an anchor as i swim to viet nam.

It might be jimmy hoffa, it might be jesus christ

Emperor of millions with a bowl of dirty rice.

Know that he’s deceitful, know he can be sly

Damn sure know he’s tricky and know the reason why.