I eat the window   I drink the window shade   I shrimp in limbo   I fish in northen Spain, next to Portugal   I make all the fishes uncomfortable   They foot the bill, I toe the line   They're looking ill, I'm feeling fine   I live in a comic at the bottom of the bay   And my thought bubbles up when I've got nothing to say   And I give all my earnings to a perfect facsimile   All I want is a portable car   So I won't have to drive when I'm not going far   And I'd take it to you if I knew where you are