He’s got the hands of a blind piano playernHe’s got a feel for the dark like a soothsayernHe takes a little bow and tips his fedoranShouts like he’s gonna save Sodom and GomorrahnnWorkin’ for the circus X railroad bumnCarnival barker for kingdom dot comenDusty ol’ Gibson, opposable thumbnBangs out the rhythm on a 50-gallon drumnnDon’t wait for TomnTom’s long gone, he’s already moved onnDon’t wait for TomnI saw an ol’ ’55 Buick just before dawnnI said, Hey, hey TomnThe sun’s comin’ up, you got your wipers onnAre you tryin' to make it rain again?nAre you tryin' to make it rain again?nIs it rainin’ just around your bend?nAre you tryin' to make it rain again?nnSittin’ in a corner with his pet muskratnTossin’ his cards into an old man’s hatnHe grins at the girls, and they always grin backnHe bets an old waltz he could get ‘em in the sacknnHe makes his own music from the bell of a ‘bonenA waitress’s falsie and a railroad phonenBobs on his knees to an old tarantellanSouth of the border, he stole it from a fellannDon’t wait for TomnTom’s long gone, he’s already moved onnDon’t wait for TomnI saw an ol’ ’55 Buick just before dawnnI said, Hey, hey TomnThe sun’s comin’ up, you got your wipers onnAre you tryin' to make it rain again?nAre you tryin' to make it rain again?nIs it rainin’ just around your bend?nAre you tryin' to make it rain again?nnHis triple-jointed juke fingers splay like a scarecrownHe kneels down and whistles to a fallen sparrownHis eyes light up when they wheel in a pianonHe reads a dirty joke out of an old Baptist hymnalnnHe wears a tuxedo made of sackcloth and ashesnHas a tattoo of a girl who can bat her eyelashesnDown on the river, he was fishin’ with a swordnHe knocked off John the Baptist for a word from the LordnnHe takes his coffee with the blood of a turnipnBlushes his cheeks with an Amsterdam tulipnChoppin’ up a rooster for a pullet surprisenIf the gravy don’t getcha, he’ll getcha with his eyesnDon't waitnnHey TomnSun's comin' up, you got your wipers on