A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H
I gotta' gal, wears her toenails long
Drives a red Barracuda, singin' meat packer songs
And she ain't from Kalamazoo
A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H
I gotta' friend, lived in a Mercedes-Benz
Then a '55 Chrysler where the trunk never ends
And the plates say Kalamazoo
He had a steady job and watched what he spent
He'd say, "I don't believe in payin' no goddamn rent
I'll squirrel away every goddamn cent
And buy my own damn house in Kalamazoo"
I knew a guy that mangled his hand
And he went from pipe fittin' to a hot dog stand
They say last year he cleared fifty grand
Selling dogs round Kalamazoo
She turned to the world with a bastard child
Said, "I just can't handle him, he's too damn wild"
But the years and the liquor have made him mild
And he lays around Kalamazoo
