When youre down in the rubbish
Looking for some of my old songs
Well don't expect me to
Come out and watch you perform
When youre riding on my coattails
Put the pen to the contract
And youll never come back
Youll be pushed into the back of a van
With a bag around your head
I'm the boy that you lept (looked?) on
And as I'm waltzing through the graveyard
To the ballad of the toadeaters
Well our lawyers can't decide
If you are riding on my coattails
This is the ballad of the toadeaters
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