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© Kelly Joe Phelps

Tommy had a watch, a good kind of watch
Wouldn't tell time if you asked it
Didn't have a face, just an ear and an eye
To see him with

Tommy stole candy from the corner store
And gave it to the mice that he built a home for
By the side of the heater, next to his guitar
That he could neither play nor destroy

Tommy wrote a letter to the Office of Iniquity
Demanding a history of his actions
But the letter was returned just two days gone
There was no Office of Iniquity

Tommy couldn't see so well, didn't have a radio
Talked to himself in different voices
Sang to himself in a Russian dialect
Invented on a Sunday afternoon

Tommy stole a limp and he borrowed a demeanour
So he'd scare anybody who'd want to talk away
'Cause they frightened him so bad that he'd pee down his legs
As he tried, very hard, to find the words

Tommy wore the helmet of a frustrated miner
Digging for words as though they were gold
Standing in the mud in his dark grey fedora
Wearing his knee-patched dungarees

Tommy was alone when the fire started
High behind the wheel of a colt .45
With a clip full of ether and a bucket full of gas
And a belly full of turpentine

Tommy made sure there was no one in danger
By knocking on each door like a madman
Locked himself in and he did the whirling dervish
Tipped the candle over on the floor

Tommy fell asleep before the firemen came
Which was good because they scared him anyway
And all that they found were the mice in the fridge
In a box, with some cheese
And a hand warmer, run on batteries

Tommy was a good man. Nobody knew.
Tommy was a good man. Nobody knew.

Song Info
We first heard this song sung by Phil Beer of Show of Hands and were so moved that we felt compelled to learn it and share the emotion.

The words of the song speak for themselves. Tragic though it may be, we can only imagine - but never really understand - the world as perceived (and lived) by others.

'Tommy had a watch,
a good kind of watch'
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