I deserved a little something

When I was a very young boy

I did a commercial for toothpaste.

My teeth were clean, not yellow,

and my smile was for real.

My mother took me to Toys 'R' Us,

and bought me a castle in the clouds.

I deserved a little something.

When I was a very young boy,

I saved all my pennies in a Tonka truck.

My mother took me to Dryer’s Sports,

where my father had worked in his teens.

She dumped that dump truck onto the counter.

The kid at the register did not smile.

The aluminum bat was too heavy,

but I deserved a little something.

When I was a very young boy,

my mother got sick and couldn’t move.

Under the blanket but over the sheet,

I stayed with her and was not scared.

We watched Lucy and Desi kiss.

They slept in different beds.

I deserved a little something.

When I was a very young boy,

I slept with a lot of women.

Some of them had some of it

and I deserved my share.

When I was a very young boy,

my mother’s new glasses broke.

I stood on both feet.

My father’s hands.

His yellow teeth.

My mother, with the chianti.

But she did not follow me.

Those two did there thing in the end,

and I slept on the side porch with the wine.

I deserved a little something.