Lyrics

CLYDE, MY INNER GUIDE
(Greg Tamblyn, Richard Helm)

Last spring I met this cute girl, and I just felt so confused
I knew I needed special help to show me what to do
So I closed my eyes and calmed my mind and in peaceful bliss I tried
To get in touch with my own inner spirit guide, named Clyde

I chanted out a mantra, and in a minute, there he was
A little guy who needed a bath and a face with three day fuzz
He told me, “Son, be aggressive, if you want to win her heart”
So the next day I just stole a kiss, and she slapped me really hard

Oh Clyde, oh Clyde, my inner guide
Why do I get this feeling that you lied

Soon after that I came upon a sure-fire get rich scheme
My broker said pork bellies were the key to all my dreams
So I consulted Clyde to see if ��this was the right time
He said yes, and by the next week, I’d lost every dime

Oh Clyde, oh Clyde, my inner guide
Why do I get this feeling that you lied

I was starting to suspect that Clyde was underhanded
So I confronted him despite my fear of being abandoned
I know that you’re supposed to learn to trust your inner self
But what if he turns out to be an evil little elf

I told him I was angry, and I felt betrayed and hurt
And he just sat there, smiled at me, giggled, then he burped
Then he just laughed right out loud and his breath it really stunk
And when I saw those bloodshot eyes I knew it, he was drunk

It hit me like a freight train, all my life things had gone wrong
And all because my inner guide was drinking all along
I knew I should have seen it y��˙ears ago in that lopsided smile
But I guess all this time I’ve been in inner guide denial

So that’s when I tried an intervention, and things got really hot
Clyde swore he didn’t have a problem, and then he offered me some pot
But finally I got through to Clyde, and he said, “You know, there’s a lot of us”
And so he went and started his own little chapter of Inner Guides Anonymous

Clyde says that in the meetings they all just bitch about what they’re doin’
They say, “What’s the point of being sober when you’re inside a screwed-up human
Clyde, he struggles with sobriety, but I pray he holds on to it
‘Cause every time he falls off the wagon, I do something stupid

Oh Clyde, oh Clyde, my inner guide
Why do I get this feeling we can make it if we try

© 1991 Ramblin’ Tamblyn Music, BMI
Taylor Helm Music, BMI