Well I woke up this morning The place was such a wreck I couldn't reach the bathroom Thought I'd better clear the deck. I tried to call the lawyer And ask him what to do He referred me to his doctor Who referred me back to you And when you checked the manual You kept in side the case It said 'put it in a cool dry place'
I drove around the city Looking for a room That was high above the water Where my things could be in tune There was noone to help me Nobody even cared I had to got through hell To get those things up there I paid my first subscription Then I joined the idle race and they said 'Store it in a cool dry place'
I got guitar, basses, amplifiers and drums Accordions and Mandolis and things that sometimes hum Cymbals and Harmonicas, capos by the score And lots of things in boxes laying all around the floor
Some places they get mildew And others get too hot. Some places are so damp that Everything you got just rots All kinds of condensation Directories of the rain There's not much compensation When everything's been stained. Some have sentimental value that Cannot be erased Go store it in a cool dry place
We got solids and acoustics And some from flowered board And some are trimmed in leather And some are made with gourds There's organs and trombones And reverbs we can use Lots of dx-7s And old athletic shoes I bought a great big building It took up one whole block I made an inventory Of all the things in stock The place was getting longer I was up all night I used up all my pencils But I went on to spite The blurry of my vision The sweat upon my face I've got to put this stuff away I mustn't leave a trace The landlord's breathing down my neck He say's it's a disgrace So i said "put it in a cool, dry, place."