Yakety Axe

Poverty-stricken but still I'm a-stickin' To the things I know to be facts One day it's feathers and the next day chicken While I'm pickin' my yakety axe Everybody says that I never will get far Keepin' out of work by pickin' this guitar Livin' on a shoestring, puttin' off things Like a shave and a haircut Money don't matter as long as I scatter A little bit of happiness around If people keep a-grinnin', I figure I'm a-winnin' With my good old yakety sound City folks go around turnin' up their noses And countin' their greenbacks and smellin' their roses But I wouldn't trade my yakety axe Even for a T-bone I'm confessin', I never took a lesson All my notes are a matter of guessin' Hopin' they'll come out in some kind of manner That'll make the yakety sound So, if you're in the mood and your feet start tappin' And you feel laid back and your hands start clappin' Then I'll have done what I wanted to from way back You're diggin' my yakety axe, now, a-pick!