Soul Pad

Come on down!

We've got this Buddhist priest sleeping in the bathtub
Teaches night school down to NYU
We've got this African Queen
She paints her eyelids green
And all night long she do the boogaloo

Come on down to my soul pad
With the blue lights in the ceiling, soul pad
You know the wall paint is peeling, soul pad
It's a room with a feeling

Two Russian students hang out in the closet
Hung up on jazz and funk
They keep some incense burning in a sardine can
Beneath the picture of Thelonious Monk

Come on down to my soul pad
We've got [?], soul pad
And if your soul needs healing, soul pad
It's a room with a feeling

This FBI agent come to see us
Said his orders were to check out the freaks
He started with the poet in the pantry
And he's been with us now, about 14 weeks

Come on down to my soul pad
With the blue light in the ceiling, soul pad
Where the wall paint is peeling, soul pad
It's a room with a feeling

You can eat anything your heart desires
From organic race to bagels and lox
We've got one more boat for one more soul
And you can sleep here in this cardboard box

Come on down to my soul pad
The scene is so angelic, soul pad
And we'll all get psychedelic, hoo!

Come on down
Mother's in the kitchen, soul pad
Where your hongry heart is itching, soul pad
A switching, switching, switching, soul pad