Write in a store window, the girls watch your lobes flex
Still, no one could guess what you would write next
Like you might write just to read your own name
Your early work made good TV game
Still, no one could top you at your short fiction
No one could stop your dangerous visions
We wrote this song don't let it go to your head
You'd like it more if your name's all we said
Harlan, Harlan, Ellison!
Harlan, Harlan, Ellison!
A lot of people called you a prick
Maybe you talked a little shit 'bout Philip K. Dick
Mephisto In Onyx. Phoenix Without Ashes.
Couldn't write a real novel to save your ass!

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