When I'm down and out and troubled and I don't know what to do,
I ask my nearest neighbor and he's always got a clue.
Sometimes I can't tell up from down or even black from white,
So I ask my nearest neighbor and he's pretty often right.
Sometimes my nearest neighbor and my friend Max disagree,
So I swallow up my pride and ask the guy across the street.
He often knows his right from left and sometimes red from blue,
If not I'll ask his nearest neighbor (who is my neighbor too).
Surely then my neighbor's neighbor will have something to say,
And HIS friends and his friends' friends and the guy across the bay.
(Maybe if I ask them all they'll guide me on my way,
Maybe if I ask them all they'll guide me on my way.)
The story ends predictably with me playing the fool,
Not knowing when to stop, or even knowing a good rule,
Ending up in a neighborhood that's far away and strange,
Getting scorned and ridiculed, then shook down for loose change.
So even in a story that is odd and ill-defined,
Life is so much better if you know where to draw the line.
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