Copyright 1997, Mike Murray and Elizabeth Gale
206.523.9736
In the days of 1955, this little boy would look
Through the catalogs depicted on the back of comic books
I'd pencil lists five page long of stuff I had to buy
And try to sell my Daddy on all the reasons why
He'd take my list and shave it and we'd argue to and fro
But the one who had the final say was the one who held the dough
To Racine, Wisconsin, I'd send Daddy's check and pray
My bag of tricks and novelties would ship without delay.
THANK YOU MISTER JOHNSON
GOD BLESS YOU MISTER SMITH
FOR SENDING ME YOUR CATALOG
OF THINGS I MIGHT HAVE MISSED
THOSE EDIFYING WONDERS
WERE WAITING IN THE MAIL
BUT IF THEN WAS NOW AND NOW WAS THEN
YOU'D LIKELY GO TO JAIL
Now Daddy was a skeptic 'bout those products having worth
I countered with a simple faith much like I felt in church
The days they passed like decades, my summer dreamed away
Lurking like a specter as the postman made his way
'Cause I knew I'd be a marvel to my buddies and my kin
They'd be begging me to do my tricks and I'd just nod and grin
Kids that never liked me would try to be my friend
But I'd shock 'em with a buzzer when they went to shake my hand
CHORUS
A pin that stuck my cousin (ouch!) as he turned the radio on
A spring that snapped his finger hard when he took a stick of gum
Ink stains on my sister's shirt that vanished in the sun
Treats that made her lips swell up when I finally gave her some
X-ray magic goggles let you see through Laura's clothes (Wow!)
Or point 'em at your open hand and view the little bones
Their soap washed Daddy dirty, a surprise for Uncle Luke
Wax to black my front teeth and colored rubber puke (Eeeuuu!)
CHORUS
(spoken)
Toys of power and magic I could never find in stores
Mostly junk that didn't work, but I always ordered more
I was gettin' what I paid for, and prices they were low
Something to look forward to, a kid could always hope