Transcribed by: Russell Edwards [email protected] (A)This is it folks, over the top He was selling post cards from a paper stand A whiskey bottle in his withered hand He put his finger on a photo from an old magazine Saw himself in the shadow of a dream Running with his head inside a juke-box crown Found him with his head inside a tin-pot crown Told him his feet stank and took him downtown Called him agitator, spy and thief Shut him up solitary third degree Chorus: (A)Take a (D)long (E)line (E)Take a (D)long (E)line x 2 E/D E/C#)With (A)him He tried to appeal to the king of might He said I'm just exercisin' my sacred right The king he said you ain't got no rights You're a mad, bad traitor get outta my sight You're a mad man, traitor get outta my sight Chorus Bass rises rather than decending at end: E/F# E/Ab)With