Lyrics: Robert Hunter
Music:
This appears in a Tim Truman 'comix' drawing, but not in any other list of Hunter's lyrics.
Wanta fix your pickle squeezer?
Tell you how to do it
Find yourself a Bozo, pal
Let him get into it
Keep him well supplied
With watermelon beer
And if he falls asleep
Stick a lobster in his ear
If you can't find a lobster
A choir of cats will do
If that doesn't work
Light a fire in his shoe
Talk to him in Cantonese
Old demotic Greek
Or Grateful Dead ebonics
Just smile when you speak
It don't make no difference
He won't listen anyway
It's all in how you say it
And not in what you say
If he gets the squeezer working
He's bound to brag a bit
How he can fix most anything
With chicken wire and spit
Pay him off in promises
Cancelled checks and trash
He'll only get in trouble
If you give him any cash
Share a glass of pickle wine
A slice of pickle pie
A dish of pickle ice cream
And speak of days gone by
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind
We'll take a cup of kindness yet
And praise the pickle wine