One Hand Clappin

Well I've got a friend
Way over town
Who’s no good to me oh yeah
I say I got a so-called friend
Way over town
Who’s no good to me oh yeah
He don’t give me money
When I’m in need
Yeah he’s the kind of friend
That I really don’t need

He writes his poems
Early in the mornin
So no one else can see oh yeah
I say he writes his poems
Early in the mornin
So no one else can see
He can write them poems so hard
Or he can write them  tenderly

(Sax Solo)

He reads my poems
That I send to him
Both day and night
He never grumbles
Or fusses
But he never tweets me right
Matter of fact
He never says nothin at all
And I say that just ain’t right

He’s like the sound of
One hand clappin
And you know
That drives me crazy
He’s like the sound of
One hand clappin
But that don’t mean he’s lazy

He just don’t waste no time
With no small talk or cryin
But he won’t even share
A glass of wine
Unless I say I’m buyin
He’s no good for me
So why do I keep on tryin?

jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2012