Has anybody around here seen or heard
Of old Ira Magee?
Last I heard he left for that other
Looking for me
Said he's gotta take me with him
Down to New Orleans
So I got me a ticket at the bus station
And a brand new pair of jeans
I ain't nothing but skin and bones
Up to around the wood and run
Built up so high and lonesome
Till it's right up to the pine
Hands like two white spiders
Pulling up a stick of weed
In a cloud of smoke I heard him choke
Happiness has left his need
Has anybody around here seen or heard
Of old Ira Magee?
Couldn't find him at the d**tore
Couldn't find him at the clean
When I came home late for dinner
Momma said to me
"Boy, save your soul for Sunday morning,
stay clear of Ira Magee"