He went thru a songwriting phase.
I, personally, think they're pretty funny. But then, I'm biased.
He even has the chords written down for these so he could accompany himself with his guitar. (the guitar he spent weeks making himself out of solid mahogany)
We were pretty much certain he would be famous some day.
And yours truly helped him out quite a bit too. I came up with all the big words. Like Pavarotti and Alcatraz.
Fame, it's all an imaginable dream
My head seems full of steam.
I thought I was similar to King Kong
Till I started to writing this song.
Fame's an elusive dream.
I thought I found some words that sounded right
Oh, say can you see
by the dawn's early light.
But I know I've heard those words before.
I can still remember our old ride
I remember how my Moma loved to fly.
The notch on the volume stayed on nine
My singin', my station wagon drivin' mother.
She wished she could drive a Mazarati
While she listened to her Pavarotti.
Oh, Jack's back, and I'm statin' a fact
In my beaver hat, and Arizona slacks
I ain't done no crime, but I'm doin' time
I'm goin' outta my mind.
The back of my mind's what I'm tryin' to find
Everybody's pushing me so I gots no time
I'm in the hole, oh where do I go?
I go outta my mind.
Goin' outta my mind
Sittin' on my behind
Sittin' in solitare
Reading the tag on my underwear.
Watching the birds on the window ledge
Wishing I was outta this Alcatraz
Thinking 'bout my hometown, out in the country
Where there wasn't a frown.
Thoughts of home seem so real
Can't describe the way they make me feel
When I open my eyes, I realize
I'm still inside.
We had a big fight after we got done writing My Mind.
I'm not telling you what started it, nor how old we were when all this went on
But, I ended up locking myself into Jackie's room, took the strings off his guitar, slashed all his shoestrings, and poured water all over his bed.
Whereupon, he locked himself into my room, and sliced all the buttons off all of my shirts.
We were bitter enemies for a few hours after that.