Letras
Junkin’ junkin’ bringing in quite a haul
Down to Ram’s Rack
Hit the Wildcat and the antique mall
Looking for nothin and lucking into something
Dollar a side I’m gonna be a junker til I die
Junkers, Junk man, Junk Woman.
Callin all junkers, come out come out come out and junk.
Calling all you treasure hunters, trash collectors, heaping pile thrifters,
Spear throwers, refuse reappropriators, shell mound excavators,
Time capsule navigators, golden disc locators,
Cyptoanthropologists, alley way sailors
Archivist needle men, fiddle tune scavengers, luster of groove voyeaurs,
Phonographic pornographers, call for assembly at the midden of North
America and start your digging down deep.
Call all junkers a-hunting we shall go to spear the spinning black whale
And sing of the glories found below
Junkin’ junkin’
On Highway 41
Found me a rare Uncle Dave on Vocallion
Wheeling and dealing next best thing to stealing
Dollar a side gonna be a junker til I die
Callin a junkers junk man junk woman, people of the golden junk,
People off the trash pile, deal wheedlers,
Dope fiends for lost sounds of moaning, comb blowing, saw bending,
Door knocking, bone rattling, shoes and sirens
All swallowed by national nautllus: oh Kyre Eleison Edison’s holy horn.
Calling all junk syndicates, enthusaists , sophisticates, junk novelists
Junk scientists and physicists, sound off junk man junk woman
And let the antiquarian trumpets blow.
Hear the blaspheme of the lone bellow, the Medicine Song of the
Blackffeet, the 1908 stump speech of William Jennings Bryant’s,
Indiana’s Cornshuckers, The yodeling Trailrider Wilf Carter,
Long Cleve and Little Harvey Hull Down Home boys the Original Stackalee
The Brilliancy Medley, Jaw harping Henry Ross Taggart, the Gypsys of
Toledo Callin all keepers of shellac Platters who ever mad hatter flipped a
milk crate from here to hell again.
Junkin’ junkin’
Something hard to find
A relic so sell it and let me make it shine