Johnson Grass

Pour me another my dreams do fly
 Above the Johnson grass so high
 Reflections of Daddy's dreams
 Floating on a yellow submarine
 He wore that Open Road so well
 The Stetson hat he helped sell
 Shared three letters L B J
 So Lady Bird won't fly away
 Now he wears his hair a little long
 He's got seven telephones
 Not used to being left alone
 He's got seven telephones
 They don't ring like they used to
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 Hill Country boy with dirt on his shoes
 Walking around with borrowed blues
 Holding men and dogs up by their ears
 Master of ten thousand fears
 He's drinking Fresca mixed with scotch
 He damn sure loves these Stonewall rocks
 He's going to the Folk Fest to hear a band
 He told the Secret Service to clap their hands
 Now he wears his hair a little long
 He's got seven telephones
 South Asia mess, who could have known?
 He's got seven telephones
 They don't ring like they used to
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 His eyes could burn like a lighted fuse
 Hold on so tight so you don't lose
 Your brass halo and duct tape wings
 Held you up awhile then made a mess of things
 Yeah it's time for you, it's time you had fun
 The Mr. President days are done
 He says, "move over driver I'll take the wheel
 Before I forget how driving feels"
 Now he wears his hair a little long
 He's got seven telephones
 Did he do more right than he got wrong?
 He's got seven telephones
 They don't ring like they used to
 Pour me another my dreams do fly
 Above the Johnson grass so high