INTRO
I'm sweeping up the trash - assorted twigs, and clumps of grass,
A patchwork of orange leaves, spread near and far.
(A Patchwork Orange?)
Way back - in '83 - you still could burn them where you please.
Now Greenpeace would hold a sit-in at my yard.

(That said - Let's launch into the first chorus, shall we? . . . )

VERSE
I'm leaving all the compost by the corner of our street,
In case the dump truck with the trashman comes by.
Oh me - Oh my!
I hope he doesn't hold his nose and drive by.

Oh, the pile towers eight tall - I cannot see the top at all.
But anyone can see it draws flies.
I'm leaving all the compost by the corner of our street,
Until the dump truck with the trashman comes by.

VERSE
The smell just will not go away,
I've even tried a lemon spray,
Oh, it would make a lesser man cry.
Oh me - Oh my!
It killed a Spotted Owl, as he flew by.
(Uh-oh, Greenpeace again)

Oh, it's wormyful, its gas-e-ous,
It's flammable, it's putrid, too,
And last night I dreamed it was alive!
Now, I'm sleeping in the lobby of the motel down the street,
Until that good-for-nothing trashman comes by!

BRIDGE
I raked the autumn leaves that have fallen.
They're moldy and they smell - it's appalling.
My wife says all the neighbors are calling.
I'd rather lie in bed.
Three's a crowd - and four, yer dead.
(Sorry, wrong Hermits' song)

VERSE
I'm hauling all this compost to my neighbor 'cross the street,
He went to sleep at - just about midnight.
It ain't . . . my day - Here comes his wife, G-L-O-R-I-A!

Oh, she's got a gun, she fired and missed.
I'd better run, she's really pissed,
She shot me on her seventeenth try.
As I'm dying in the gutter by the corner of our street,
I watch the dump truck with the trashman drive by.