Pink Floyd - Nobody home

Got a little black book with my poems in
Got a bag with a tooth brush and a comb in
When I'm a good dog they sometimes throw me a bone in
I got elastic bands keeping my shoes on
Got those swollen hand blues
I got thirteen channels of shit on the TV to choose from
I got electric light
An' I got second sight
Got amazing powers of observation
And that is how I know
When I try to get through
On the telephone to you
There'll be nobody home
I got the obligatory Hendrix perm
And the inevitable pinhole burns
All down the front of my favourite satin shirt
I got nicotine stains on my finger
I got a silver spoon on a chain
Got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains
I got wild staring eyes
I got a strong urge to fly
But I got nowhere to fly to
Ooooh baby when I pick up the phone
There's still nobody home
I got a pair of Gohills boots
'n' I got fading roots.