I've got a lot of blues on my mind   and at least a million miles behind me   and all that I've got between me   and pauper's hill    is a wrinkled, crincked, wadded dollar bill.      Lake Michigan wind sure is cold   and I need me a jacket for my shoulders   I could buy one down at the surplus store   cheap cotton twill    with my wrinckled crinckled wadded dollar bill      But I'm not bound    and I never will   be to a wrinkled crinckled wadded dollar bill.      It sure smells good at the bakery   and I stand and let the smell flood over me   they sell them day old cakes mighty cheeply   I could eat my fill   with my wrinkled, crinkled wadded dollar bill      But I'm not bound   and I never will   be to a wrinkled, crinkled wadded dollar bill.      Lake Michigan waves hit the beach   and I stand and let them wash at my feet   and then I throw it just as far as I can   into the chill    my wrinkled, crinkled wadded dollar bill.      For I'm not bound   and I never will   be to a wrinkled crinkled wadded dollar bill.      No I'm not bound   and I never will   be to a wrinkled crinkled wadded dollar bill.