text:  When I called New York and talked to that brain quack, I said, Doc, I've got to have my whole brain back. He said, I'm sorry there, Mr. Cash, but I can't do that. He said, I put your brain in a chicken last Monday. He's singing your songs and making lots of money. And I got him signed to a 10-year recording contract. Now, friends, if you see me walking down the street, remember what you see ain't necessarily me. And if I try to hold you up, don't pay me no mind.