Yakety Axe

Poverty-stricken but still I'm a-stickin'
 To the things I know to be facts
 One day it's feathers and the next day chicken
 While I'm pickin' my yakety axe
 Everybody says that I never will get far
 Keepin' out of work by pickin' this guitar
 Livin' on a shoestring, puttin' off things
 Like a shave and a haircut
 Money don't matter as long as I scatter
 A little bit of happiness around
 If people keep a-grinnin', I figure I'm a-winnin'
 With my good old yakety sound
 City folks go around turnin' up their noses
 And countin' their greenbacks and smellin' their roses
 But I wouldn't trade my yakety axe
 Even for a T-bone
 I'm confessin', I never took a lesson
 All my notes are a matter of guessin'
 Hopin' they'll come out in some kind of manner
 That'll make the yakety sound
 So, if you're in the mood and your feet start tappin'
 And you feel laid back and your hands start clappin'
 Then I'll have done what I wanted to from way back
 You're diggin' my yakety axe, now, a-pick!