I've got a lot of blues on my mind
and at least a million miles behind me
and all that I've got between me

and pauper's hill
is a wrinkled, crincked, wadded dollar bill.


Lake Michigan wind sure is cold
and I need me a jacket for my shoulders
I could buy one down at the surplus store

cheap cotton twill
with my wrinckled crinckled wadded dollar bill


But I'm not bound
and I never will
be to a wrinkled crinckled wadded dollar bill.


It sure smells good at the bakery
and I stand and let the smell flood over me

they sell them day old cakes mighty cheeply

I could eat my fill

with my wrinkled, crinkled wadded dollar bill

But I'm not bound

and I never will
be to a wrinkled, crinkled wadded dollar bill.


Lake Michigan waves hit the beach
and I stand and let them wash at my feet
and then I throw it just as far as I can

into the chill
my wrinkled, crinkled wadded dollar bill.


For I'm not bound
and I never will
be to a wrinkled crinkled wadded dollar bill.


No I'm not bound
and I never will

be to a wrinkled crinkled wadded dollar bill.