From the recording Cleaning Up My Act

From my unauthorized autobiography.


Copyright 2002 Dave Nealon

Well, this time, baby, I'm cleaning up my act
I'll break away from the pack, go on the attack
And I won't relax till it's established fact
That this time, baby, I'm cleaning up my act

Last week's clothes are lying on the floor
There's shirt and shoes and my wallet blocking the door
It's hard to find a place to walk
I say I'll do better, but that's just talk
And the mess just piles up ever more and more

Every flat surface becomes a shelf instead
The chair, the table, the sofa and the bed
The papers are scattered all over the rug
I just hope the mice chase away the bugs
And the piles of books I still haven't read

Well, I got so excited when I finally got it straight
I called her and invited her to see my spotless place
But she said she was looking for clean of a different kind
What I really want is to clean your dirty mind

Well, this time I won't leave no sack unpacked
About time I straightened up this ramshackle shack
I'm gonna extract, detract, weedwhack, ransack
Leave nothing intact that might serve to distract
In fact, to be exact, I'm cleaning up my act