Lyrics

JUST A LITTLE SOUL HANGING OUT IN SPACE
(Greg Tamblyn)

Well I was just a little soul hangin’ out in space
Getting ready to come into the human race
When God came over and he said to me
Well, kid, whatcha wanna be?

It’s time for you to go get a life
But you don’t have to have no struggle or strife
You can live a life of comfort and ease
Worldly pleasures, do as you please

I can give you parents with lots of money
Southern California, bright and sunny
Tall and handsome, a movie star
Sexy parties, expensive cars

Or maybe an athlete with rhythm and grace
You could do the Olympics, win every race
Confidence just oozing from ya
And the women, they’re gonna love ya

Or maybe you’d like to help those in low places
Like my gal in India, Mother Teresa
But you don’t have to mess with the dirt and the scum
Being the Pope is a lot more fun

Or how about a yogi with magical powers
You could levitate for hours and hours
Teach everybody to walk on hot coals
Sell books and tapes by the truckloads

Well what do you say, kid, you make the call
You can have any part or you can have it all
You just tell me what you want to be
And I’ll give it to you, it’s my guarantee

Well I just stood there with my mouth open
‘Cause you know, that’s just what I was hopin’
But while I was deciding to choose which one
I thought, well maybe I’ll just have me some fun

‘Cause me and God, see, we’re pretty tight
And I know God likes a good joke all right
So I figure I’ll pull his leg for awhile
And see if I can’t make the old boy smile






So I say, Father-o-mine, you know, all that glory
To tell you the truth, it sounds kind of boring
I want a life with some challenge to it
You know, something I gotta work to get through it

I don’t want fame and easy success
I want to be shamed and easily depressed
With various physical and mental afflictions
Might as well throw in multiple addictions

I don’t need life to be a sweet dream
I want writer’s block, and low self esteem
Sensitive skin and food allergies
And when I get around girls, make me sneeze

God, you’re the Lord of all creation
Go ahead, use your imagination

Make me wish that I had more height
Give me claustrophobia, stage fright
Prone to worry, and riddled with doubt
And thinking I’ll never figure life out

And make me obsessed to be number one
But too dang lazy to get anything done

Yeah, that’s it, God, that’s what I want to have
And then I just shut up, so he could laugh

Well God looked at me with a puzzled brow
And shook his head and just said, Holy cow
For a minute he stood there, pulling his beard
And then he said, kid, you’re pretty darn weird

And I know you’re just playin’ the fool
But this time, kid, the jokes on you
And then he grinned at me and he yelled Shazam
And that’s my story, and here I am

© 1991 RAMBLIN' TAMBYN MUSIC, BMI