Story Behind The Song

This is a song for an "urban Hermit" type of guy. I made him up, but I've known a few.

Song Description

There is a short, slow into, but it gets quite sprightly after that. The backing track has all kinds of madness going on eventually.

Lyrics

I live on East Fifty-Second
A block away from St Ives
Above the cars in the Parkway
We hear the bells on the drive
I sweep up late in an office
I barely see light of day
It's like I've planned my existance
To keep the whole world at bay ......

Sometimes I feel like I'm fallin' off the deep end
Gonna wind up a lonely as Wall Street on the weekend
We can all use some human comfort, I'll agree
But there's devils in my attic
And they will not let me be

Whoa oh, oo whoa .......

I keep a box in the corner
It's like a key to my cell
When I need love and attention
It's you and me, Packard Bell

Sometimes I feel like I'm fallin' off the deep end
Had a cat named Decartes, and a carp named Solzenitzen
Now the cat and the carp are conversation-free
But there's devils in my attic, and they will not let me be

Whoa-oh, oo whoa .....

There was a girl up in typing
I fixed a squeak in her chair
I asked her over for dinner
(And she said), "Like I would even go there .....

Phone call for Mr Martin ......

Sometimes I feel like I'm fallin' off the deep end
Gonna wind up as lonely as Wall Street on the weekend
We can all use some human comfort, I'll agree
But there's devils in my attic, and they will not let me be

Whoa-oh, oo whoa ......