The only one it came up with that seemed kinda like actual lyrics:
Now this is the story all about how my life got flipped-turned upside down. And I'd like to take a minute, just sit right there. I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel Air. This is the tale of the Telly Savalas. You want to know what made me what I am today? It's all here in this show.
So take a little time and listen close to what I'm about to say. 'Cause I'm about to tell you how I overcame, how I won. A man's got to know his place, know his own worth. My whole world it was a mess! A total, complete and utter mess. I couldn't do a thing, not a thing. Didn't know what to think, I really couldn't win. Now I got no money, no job. I ain't got no suit, no shirt. I'm a bum, just a funky, funky bum.
Now I was working for the man, just a day laborer. Working for the man, just a funky, funky day laborer. Well he wouldn't let me shine his shoes! But I kept on trying! I took 'em home, I cleaned 'em up. But he kept on trying! I couldn't get the words out of his head. He'd mess up the house! I got him on a diet. I tried to help him along. But he didn't want to get it done. 'Cause he lived right next door to the master. He was on second base, I was trying to get him to the f.
I was working for the man, doing my best to please. But they kept on changing the rules. I wasn't winning, I was just a funky, funky day laborer. Well the boss would throw fits, 'cause I was always on strike. Didn't know what I was trying to do, I didn't know who was boss, I was just a funky, funky day laborer. Didn't know what to think, I really couldn't win. I was just a funky, funky, funky day laborer. I was working for the man.
Well, I was working for the man, so I tried to get it done. I really didn't know who was boss, but I had a bad head. Well, I was working for the man, doing my best to please. But he was so hard to please. It seemed like he didn't know me, I wasn't making it! But I kept on trying. I took his place, made a bad mess of the house. Didn't know if I'd live, I didn't know if I'd die. He messed up my head. I wasn't winning, I was just a funky, funky day laborer.
Now I'm working for the man. They tell me what to do, and they want me to shine his shoes. But they're not helping me much, I'm just a funky, funky day laborer. They tell me how to act, but I won't act like them. You might think I'm crazy, I'm just a funky, funky, funky day laborer.
And what's crazy is that it even generate an annotation:
**M** ost people have a sense of irony. Some sense more than others. A "funky" is someone who is aware of a particular situation and is willing to make a joke about it. You are what you make of your situation.
An iron worker, for example, is a funky. An iron worker is very aware of his situation. He is aware of the ironworker's work. He has heard about the ironworker's work before he begins. He probably knows what he is getting into. He may be able to predict it well in advance, but he is still funky. When he does his work, his head is up against the wall, he is looking up to the ceiling. If the ironworker falls, he doesn't care. He is still pretty funky. An ironworker is the man who falls on the beam and says, "That's the way the iron's gotta go."
A construction worker is probably less funky than the ironworker, though there are some who get the same satisfaction from their work. For most of us, we don't really get paid to be able to be funky. Most of us don't want to put a whole lot of extra time or effort into being "funky" any more than we would want to put on a cape and do the same things we would do without it.