Dear Abby, dear Abby
My feet are too long
My hair’s falling out and my rights are all wrong
My friends they all tell me that I’ve no friends at all
Won’t you write me a letter, won’t you give me a call?
Siiiigggnned bewildered
Bewildered, bewildered
You have no complaint
You are what your are and you ain’t what you ain’t
So listen up buster, and listen up good
Stop wishing for bad luck and knocking on wood
Excerpt from Dear Abby, John Prine
John Prine was a great songwriter