Motorpsycho Nightmare
I pounded on a farmhouseLookin’ for a place to stayI was mighty, mighty tiredI had come a long, long wayI said, “Hey, hey, in thereIs there anybody home?”I was standin’ on the stepsFeelin’ most aloneWell, out comes a farmerHe must have thought that I was nutsHe immediately looked at meAnd stuck a gun into my guts
I fell downTo my bended kneesSaying, “I dig farmersDon’t shoot me, please!”He cocked his rifleAnd began to shout“You’re that travelin’ salesmanThat I have heard about”I said, “No! No! No!I’m a doctor and it’s trueI’m a clean-cut kidAnd I been to college, too”
Then in comes his daughterWhose name was RitaShe looked like she stepped out ofLa Dolce VitaI immediately tried to cool itWith her dadAnd told him what aNice, pretty farm he hadHe said, “What do doctorsKnow about farms, pray tell?”I said, “I was bornAt the bottom of a wishing well”
Well, by the dirt ’neath my nailsI guess he knew I wouldn’t lie“I guess you’re tired”He said, kinda slyI said, “Yes, ten thousand milesToday I drove”He said, “I got a bed for youUnderneath the stoveJust one conditionAnd you go to sleep right nowThat you don’t touch my daughterAnd in the morning, milk the cow”
I was sleepin’ like a ratWhen I heard something jerkin’There stood RitaLookin’ just like Tony PerkinsShe said, “Would you like to take a shower?I’ll show you up to the door”I said, “Oh, no! no!I’ve been through this before”I knew I had to splitBut I didn’t know howWhen she said“Would you like to take that shower, now?”
Well, I couldn’t leaveUnless the old man chased me out’Cause I’d already promisedThat I’d milk his cowsI had to say somethingTo strike him very weirdSo I yelled out“I like Fidel Castro and his beard”Rita looked offendedBut she got out of the wayAs he came charging down the stairsSayin’, “What’s that I heard you say?”
I said, “I like Fidel CastroI think you heard me right”And ducked as he swungAt me with all his mightRita mumbled something’Bout her mother on the hillAs his fist hit the iceboxHe said he’s going to kill meIf I don’t get out the doorIn two seconds flat“You unpatrioticRotten doctor Commie rat”
Well, he threw a Reader’s DigestAt my head and I did runI did a somersaultAs I seen him get his gunAnd crashed through the windowAt a hundred miles an hourAnd landed fully blastIn his garden flowersRita said, “Come back!”As he started to loadThe sun was comin’ upAnd I was runnin’ down the road
Well, I don’t figure I’ll be backThere for a spellEven though Rita moved awayAnd got a job in a motelHe still waits for meConstant, on the slyHe wants to turn me inTo the F.B.I.Me, I romp and stompThankful as I rompWithout freedom of speechI might be in the swamp