I eat the window I drink the window shade I shrimp in limbo I fish in northen Spain, next to Portugal I make all the fishes uncomfortable They foot the bill, I toe the line They're looking ill, I'm feeling fine I live in a comic at the bottom of the bay And my thought bubbles up when I've got nothing to say And I give all my earnings to a perfect facsimile All I want is a portable car So I won't have to drive when I'm not going far And I'd take it to you if I knew where you are