Charlie Freak had but one thing to call his own
Three weight ounce pure golden ring no precious stone
Five nights without a bite
No place to lay his head
And if nobody takes him in
He'll soon be dead
On the street he spied my face I heard him hail
In our plot of frozen space he told his tale
Poor man, he showed his hand
So righteous was his need
And me so wise I bought his prize
For chicken feed
Newfound cash soon begs to smash a state of mind
Close inspection fast revealed his favorite kind
Poor kid, he overdid
Embraced the spreading haze
And while he sighed his body died
In fifteen ways
When I heard I grabbed a cab to where he lay
'Round his arm the plastic tag read D.O.A.
Yes Jack, I gave it back
The ring I could not own
Now come my friend I'll take your hand
And lead you home
Three weight ounce pure golden ring no precious stone
Five nights without a bite
No place to lay his head
And if nobody takes him in
He'll soon be dead
On the street he spied my face I heard him hail
In our plot of frozen space he told his tale
Poor man, he showed his hand
So righteous was his need
And me so wise I bought his prize
For chicken feed
Newfound cash soon begs to smash a state of mind
Close inspection fast revealed his favorite kind
Poor kid, he overdid
Embraced the spreading haze
And while he sighed his body died
In fifteen ways
When I heard I grabbed a cab to where he lay
'Round his arm the plastic tag read D.O.A.
Yes Jack, I gave it back
The ring I could not own
Now come my friend I'll take your hand
And lead you home
Lyrics submitted by montresor, edited by xHenryChinaski
Charlie Freak Lyrics as written by Walter Carl Becker Donald Jay Fagen
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Royalty Network
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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Three weight ounce pure golden ring no precious stone
Especially the Fagen sings it, it gives insight to the protagonist. He looks at it sums it up. His brain works like that.
There was an interview and the reviewer said something like "it would pass for jazz in a hotel elevator and poetry in a freshman english class". It's not poetry and it's not jazz. It's divisive in a way similar to some of the fusion stuff Davis did. It's like go listen to it a few more times maybe you'll get it.
Lot's of meticulousness in the lyrics in a good way. I'm 27 now and this is how you write a song. You work on it constantly.