Lyrics:

Sam with the showing scalp flat top
Particular about the point it made

(Ah, God..)
Why, when I was knee-high to a grasshopper
This black juice came out on a hard shelled chin
And they called that 'tobacco juice'
I used to fiddle with my back feet music for a black onyx
My entire room absorbed every echo
The music was... thud like
The music was... thud like
I usually played such things as rough-neck and thug
Opaque melodies that would bug most people
Music from the other side of the fence
A black swan figurine lay on all color lily pads
On a little conglomeration table of pressed black felt
With same color shadows, in seamed knobbed knees, and what-nots
The long hallway rolled out into oddball odd
Beside the fly-pecked black doorway
That looked closed on the tar-lattice street
Up a wrought iron fire escape
Rolled out a tiny wooden platform with dark, hard, dark rubber wheels
Roll, skreek! Roll, skreek! Roll, skreek!

Sam with the showing scalp flat top
Particular about the point it made

SAM WAS A BASKET CASE!
A hardened dark ivory clip held saleable everyday pencils
I wish I had a pair 'o bongos!
Bongo Fury!
Bongo Fury!
Oh, Bongo Fury! (Boogie!)
Bongo Fury!
Bongo Fury
Bongo Fury