Down at the shell shed the boys are pickin' at their pearls.nThe hole in my mitten lets the rain get in.nI bought 22 ounces from the petrol park, waiting at the light;nI'm never gonna make it back in timennSo Geraldine and me can beginnBefore Mister Raymond and his Japanese slippers comes creepin' in.nnI sit with the fan on my face and sip shandies all day.nI learned to sleep standing up so I don't have to make the bed.nNo tobacco for my rolling papers, warm water in my cup--nI'll have to wait all morningnnBefore Geraldine and me can begin;nBefore Mister Raymond and his Japanese slippers'll come creepin' in.nnLoaded up with turkey carpets and green glass diamondsnI drove back and forth for five long rolling moons.nAnd everyday and every night I thought of back at homenAnd I couldn't get the notion out of my head:nnThat before Geraldine and me could beginnMister Raymond and his Japanese slippers'd come creepin' in.nnEverything is always a little late;nTrippin' on those Japanese slippers seems to be my fate.nnIt was my job to cut down all the poplar treesnAnd I'd sit on the stumps and listen to the finches.nAnd look out at the field and eat honey out of the jarnAnd wonder why it always seemednnBefore Geraldine and me can beginnMister Raymond and his Japanese slippers would come creepin' in.