Being Odd Has Been Good To Me

Stopped down by the coffee shop, med-books in my hand
Watched the Georgetown girls go by, met a homeless man
Talked about a state of grace, did calisthenics and prayed goodbye
More compelling than a soft pretty face is a crazy old rambling guy

When I was a little boy, I kicked a little ball
Back then the whole of life was to juke a guy and get a goal
I’m still confounding with my fun, nobody’s got a clue
I’m having a ball but I can’t find the goal and I’m not really sure what to do

But I’m very seriously amused
That the whole world is confused
At innocence reused and reused and reused
And I try to put it into words
And it might sound a little absurd
As I utilize every buzzword but use them cryptically
Being odd has been good to me

Rolled into the Hela spa, about half-past ten
Somewhere round a quarter past 11 a rich young lady walks in
She said I’ve got too much underarm hair, shoot me with your laser gun
Who woulda’ guessed being a doctor would be so easy and fun

Scootered over to the hospital, surfed the Web all night
Except for the guy who came in to the ICU with an umpsi doodle mongoose bite
Somethin bout a fight over Christmas ham with a spoiled snake
I swear you can’t make this stuff up but you can dream about the movie you’ll make

Walked up to the psych ward, clipboard and a pen
Asked all the standard questions and then the exam really began
Talked about God and shame, the devil’s sexuality
Told him God is good, take your meds, and the truth will set you free

Wrapped up in a pure white coat
Writing my own doctor’s note
Allowing myself to float
On down the stream that leads to Ashley
Talking with the nurse for a while
Slacker with a savior style
Milkin’ it mile after mile after mile
Being doc has been good to me

I need 20mg of prayer for this girl stat

Might even need a laying on of hands

Straight through every red light
Beepin’ to the guy that wants to fight
Magic tricks out on the street
Every corner is a meet and greet
Saying slowly what I have to say
Taking my sweet time to pray
Inventing new dances every day
Eating my curds and whey
Forgetting that I needed to pay
Charming my way away
Life is like a game of croquet
Weaving round on the highway
Contemplating modern decay
Working it into a screenplay
For when I move to LA someday
What can I really say, except
Being Jono has been good to me