Well I woke up this morning  The place was such a reck  I couldn't reach the bathroom  Thought I'd better clear the deck.  I tried to call the lawyer  And ask him what to do  He referred me to his doctor  Who referred me back to you  And when you checked the manual  You kept in side the case  It said 'put it in a cool dry place'  I drove around the city  Looking for a room  That was high above the water  Where my things could be in tune  There was noone to help me  Nobody even cared  I had to got through hell  To get those things up there  I paid my first subscription  Then I joined the idle race  and they said 'Store it in a cool dry place'  I got guitar, basses, amplifiers and drums  Accordions and Mandolis and things that sometimes hum  Cymbals and Harmonicas, capos by the score  And lots of things in boxes laying all around the floor  Some places they get mildew  And others get too hot.  Some places are so damp that  Everything you got just rots  All kinds of condensation  Directories of the rain  There's not much compensation  When everything's been stained.  Some have sentimental value that  Cannot be erased  Go store it in a cool dry place  We got solids and acoustics  And some from flowered board  And some are trimmed in leather  And some are made with gourds  There's organs and trombones  And reverbs we can use  Lots of dx-7s  And old athletic shoes  I bought a great big building  It took up one whole block  I made an inventory  Of all the things in stock  The place was getting longer  I was up all night  I used up all my pencils  But I went onto spite  The blury of my vision  The sweat upon my face  I've got to put this stuff away  I mustn't leave a trace  The landlord's breathing down my neck  He say's it's a disgrace  So i said "put it in a cool, dry, place.  __________