I eat the window
I drink the window shade
I shrimp in limbo
I fish in northen Spain, next to Portugal
I make all the fishes uncomfortable
They foot the bill, I toe the line
They're looking ill, I'm feeling fine
I live in a comic at the bottom of the bay
And my thought bubbles up when I've got nothing to say
And I give all my earnings to a perfect facsimile
All I want is a portable car
So I won't have to drive when I'm not going far
And I'd take it to you if I knew where you are