Prisoner Of Funk Lyrics - Bobs

I've been having dreams of what may come to be 

What a nightmare 

Haven't found a job since I got my G.E.D. 

What do I care 

And in my dreams I am a short order cook 

Slinging burgers and fries till the dawn 

There's a jukebox in the corner playing loud 

Funky bass lines 

The counter man he sings his orders out in harmony 

There's a counter full of people singing background 

Everything I say 

Is repeated one bar later 

Five guys in the corner booth are clapping 

Clapping on 2 & 4 

When I spin up a shake 

It sounds like budget synthesizer strings 

Bums in the back alley playing percussion on the cans 

There's bums in the back alley playing percussion on the cans 

(Lord, lord) 

Bums in the back alley playing percussion on the cans 

I said 

There's bums in the back alley playing percussion on the cans 

I'm a prisoner of funk 

I've got a jukebox for a brain 

What happened to the way it used to be 

Lord set me free 

Let me wake up again 

(Wake up now, you're gonna drown in funk, wake up) 

Burgers dancing on the grill it seems 

All the food is dancing in my dreams 

Leather boys line up to get their orange whips 

Popping fingers and a-singing 

Scooby dooby do wha 

Fat mama cass comes in digging into a bag of chips 

Her voice sets the place to ringing 

Yea, yea 

The mustard and the ketchup make a red and yellow rainbow 

Squirting high into the air 

Watch those funky fried potatoes 

I'm a prisoner of funk 

I've got a jukebox for a brain 

What happened to the way it used to be 

Lord set me free 

Let me wake up again 

(Wake up now, you're gonna drown in funk, wake up) 

Yea 

I said yea 

I said yea ahhh 

Yea ahhh 

Yeah ohahhh 

A ha, ah aha 

I been having dreams 

Yea, yea, yea, yea