Busking Out All Over or Where's Your Monkey?
When I'm feeling good and the weather is sweet,
I roll out my cart and head for the street.
I find a good spot where the crowds aren't too deep
and set up my cart with nary a peep.
On go curtains, up goes the umbrella, on goes the crank,
I play a tarantella.
My monkey, all clad in red and yella.' sits on the organ,
a handsome small fella.
The people walk by as I crank out a tune, doing my best
to be a cartoon.
I crank in the morning 'til late afternoon, I crank in the sun,
I crank in the moon.
Some give a penny, some give a dollar. I thank them all,
and I never holler whether they're rich or covered in squalor,
or even wearing a clerical collar.
When it's time to go home I pack up my cart, my monkeys
and me, and soon we depart.
With a tune in my head and joy in my heart, we head back
home to my lovely sweetheart.