Fell asleep last night with the T-V on. Oh, what a dream I had.
I dreamed I answered every single one of those late night mail order ads.
And four to six weeks later, much to my surprise,
The mailman came to my front door, and I couldn't believe my eyes
When he brought the Vegematic, and the Pocket Fisherman too,
Illuminated illustrated history of life,
And Boxcar Willie with a Ginzu knife,
A bamboo steamer, and a Garden Weasel too,
And a tie-dyed, dayglow souvenir shirt from Six Flags Over Burbank.
The doorbell rang all morning and into the afternoon.
I shook with fright as it rang all night to the light of the Master Card moon.
There was Parcel Post in the pantry, and UPS in the hall,
C O D's to the ceiling, and I just couldn't pay for it all.
I got the egg scrambler, with a Seal-a-Meal carrying case,
A set of presidential commemorative plates
So I could eat my eggs off the President's face,
A Minute Mender, and a needle that'll knit or crochet,
And an autographed photograph of Rin Tin Tin at Six Flags Over Burbank.
I remembered I was dreaming, so I gave a mighty cheer.
When I awoke, it was no joke, 'cause all that shit was here.
So if you fall asleep with the TV on, let me tell you what to do:
Tear the telephone out of the wall unless you want it to happen to you.
You'll get the Vegematic, and the Pocket Fisherman too,
Illuminated illustrated history of life,
And Boxcar Willie with a Ginzu knife,
A bamboo steamer, and a smokeless ashtray too
And an all expenses paid weekend for three at Six Flags Over Burbank.