Yeah well no one really understands,
A shopping cart is filled with cans,
And a top hat, and a snare drum, and a horn.
And a poster and some magazines,
With my picture, and some magic beans,
And a blanket, that I got, when I was born.


Different people do the same things everyday,
I just look the other way,
But I keep on rollin', I keep on rollin'...

I deny a problem with my attitude,
'cause I will work for food,
Yeah I keep on rollin', I keep on rollin'...


I wasn't always pararnoid,
Sang a song on Uncle Floyd,
But the records, never sold, and that was bad.
And my Mommy still took care of me,
Till I was almost thirty-three
Now she's gone up to heaven, to see Dad.

Sheriffs came with pistols and their starry sleeves,
Gimme thirty days to leave,
And I keep on rollin', I keep on rollin'...

No one wants to pay me for my broken heart,
So now I've got this shopping cart,
And I keep on rollin', I keep on rollin'...
On.....

On, and on, and on, and on, and on.....


Different people do the same things everyday,
I just look the other way,
And I keep on rollin', I keep on rollin'...

I can't live without eternal gratitude,
'cause I will work for food,
And I keep on rollin', I keep on rollin'...
On...

On, and on and on, and on, and on....

On, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on and on and
On...

Writer : EASDALE, JOHN MILLS
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing