Howie Newman
HERE WE GO AGAIN          781-662-2616
Products on TV
The problems I've had with women
Could form an endless list
And yet I really can’t see how those women
Could resist me
So instead of cryin', I’ve been tryin'
Those products on TV
And if I persist some spray or mist
Will surely work for me  
That new toothpaste was an utter waste of my hard earned pay
I tried those shaving creams but the girl of my dreams was still at bay

I tried fancy shirts and double-knit suits with weird designs
French colognes and Princess phones, and fine imported wine
Diamonds, jewels and power tools, on TV they work all right
I used gums ‘n’ mints and wheat germ rinse but I’m still alone at night  

None of that stuff really works, they must think that we’re all jerks
Patience is a virtue but y’know I just can’t wait
There’s plenty of fish out in the sea but I’m running out of bait

Getting Up Brings Me Down
I've done it five times a week for just about 25 years, that’s 6500 times
But I just can’t get used to getting out of bed before noon
That’s a personal hangup of mine
I get hit by those morning rays, I’m in a stupefied hypnotic daze
I'm as unhappy as I can possibly be
My idea of heaven is sleeping
'til 11, and then taking a nap at 3

'Cause getting up just brings me down
You better heed this warning: Don’t go near me in the morning
When I get in to work late, my boss shakes his head and frowns
But I tell him, "Getting up brings me down"  

It started off in nursery school, I’d always pray for snow
So I wouldn't have to break my restful peace
I'd curse at my mother while she wrestled off the covers  
And threatened to call the police
Now I’m almost 25, very glad to be alive but if I had my way
I wouldn't walk out that door unless my job was 12 to 4, working every other day

I don’t care what the people say
I like to spend my time snoozin' away.
It’s my personal taste, it’s my life to waste, any way that I want.  

I’d do anything for a little more sleep, like praise the Lord or counting sheep
I’d get down on my knees
'Cause when I leave that blissful rack, I never stop thinking ’bout going back
And catching a few more Zs

Cosmic Garbageman Rag
If you take a trip on a rocket ship some warm September day
All you’d see is garbage messing up our Milky Way
Now scientists are curious folks but you’d think they had enough
They shoot this stuff out into space but no one cleans it up

Loose antennas, floatin' wires, burned out engines, lunar tires
I’m the one who picks it up in my cosmic garbage truck
Solar panels, busted sockets, wayward capsules, retro rockets
The man with the can, I’m your cosmic garbageman  

Late next month I’m off to the moon, it’s really such a drag
Gotta put all that Apollo crap in a great big plastic bag
Fill that bag up to the top, use a cable for a tie
Toss it back down to earth, watch it burn up in the sky

Being a cosmic garbageman, I really can’t complain
It’s always nice and quiet, and there’s never any rain
The pay is good, the hours ain’t bad, got a pension plan to boot
I really don’t mind the meteorites but it’s too far to commute

We’re traveling places nowadays beyond man’s wildest dreams
But no matter where you go in life, someone’s gotta clean

A Little Sympathy
I heard you’ve been around town, knockin' at my door
Tryin' to get in touch with me ’cause that’s what friends are for
I’m gonna try and tell you exactly how I feel
You really broke my heart and it ain't completely healed

So go away from me now, I ain't done cryin' I wanna be your friend
But I need more time
Y'know that things ain't been easy since you said goodbye
So I need a little sympathy and a lot more time  

When you said farewell, I thought it was the end
I'd never have to worry 'bout seeing you again
But a friend of mine just called and she told me on the phone
That you want to come and see me 'stead of leaving me alone

Please don't get offended by what I have to say
I've just got to tell you that it’s easier this way
Y'know it's hard to think about the past and wonder why
But it's harder still to look a disappointment in the eye

Mustang Mania
We don't care what the schedule says
We're gonna go right out and bust some heads
The scouting reports are sure to attest
We're the toughest darn team in the whole Southwest

We're the SMU Mustang men, we're gonna win some games
But we won’t say when. Our greatest heights are yet to be known
We've got all the coaches worried, even our own  

Mustang Mania, it's goin' around all over town Ol' SMU is starting to roll
Better head down to the Cotton Bowl
Mustang Mania, it's in the air, it's everywhere
If you got the luck and you got the knack, you can be a Mustang Maniac  

Ford can throw, Tolbert can fly, Coach Meyer knows how and sometimes why
With our kind of line, look out for the backs
And Putt Choate'll stop ’em dead in their tracks

Words and music by Howie Newman
©2001 Howie Newman, Chin Music (BMI)