First I came to see the doctor, told him I was unemployed Asked me what I did for money, told him I was overjoyed To reach into the basket, and take a bunch of dimes Drop them for the paper riddled with my rhymes Take a message to the clerk, tell him not to work Then I came to see the priest, said I knew God was alive He looked at me quite solemn, said “Son don't give me that jive†I reached into my pocket, pulled out .45 Said “Priest I got your number, and this here ain't no jive†Take a message to the clerk, tell him not to work