Riding on the Equator

The way you threw yourself at the waiter

Could tell by the look on his face

He thought you were mad

You went off riding on the equator

I tell you that waiter sure was glad

You sold your story to the newspaper

And went round the world in a caravan

You made lots of people very unhappy

And turned yourself into a wanted man

Then you said that the world was something to behold

Not to be bought or to be sold

It was something that you could hold

You've got something special it's a secret

You're in transit a nomad

You left that girl in Panama City

I said it was the best woman you ever had

You called me up from where you were living

Said you had some more stories you wanted to tell

About how you always spent your life

In some kind of prison

I said those true stories are the hardest to sell