Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Party, artist - Phil Ochs. Album song The Early Years, in the genre
Date of issue: 31.12.2005
Record label: Vanguard
Song language: English
The Party |
The fire-breathing Rebels arrive at the party early |
Their khaki coats are hung in the closet near the fur |
Asking handouts from the ladies, while they criticize the lords |
Boasting of the murder of the very hands that pour |
And the victims learn to giggle, for at least they are not bored |
And my shoulders had to shrug |
As I crawl beneath the rug |
And retune my piano |
The Hostess is enormous, she fills the room with perfume |
She meets the guests and smothers them with greetings |
And she asks «how are you» as she offers them a drink |
The Countess of the social grace, who never seems to blink |
And she promises to talk to you, if you promise not to think |
And my shoulders had to shrug, as I crawled beneath the rug |
And retuned my piano |
The Beauty of the hour is blazing in the present |
She surrounds herself with those who would surrender |
Floating in her flattery she’s a trophy-prize, caressed |
Protected by a pretty face, sometimes cursed, sometimes blessed |
And she’s staring down their desires, while they’re staring down her dress |
And my shoulders had to shrug |
As I crawl beneath the rug |
And retune my piano |
The egos shine like lightbulbs, so bright you cannot see them |
Blind each other blinder than a sandbox |
All the fury of an argument, holding back their yawns |
A challenge shakes the chandliers, the selfish swords are drawn |
To the loser go the hangups, to the victor go the hangers on |
And my shoulders had to shrug |
As I crawl beneath the rug |
And retune my piano |
They travel to the table, the host is served for supper |
And they pass each other down for salt and pepper |
And the conversation sparkles as their wits are dipped in wine |
Dinosaurs on a diet, on each other they will dine |
Then they pick their teeth and they squelch a belch saying: |
«Darling you tasted divine.» |
And my shoulders had to shrug |
As I crawl beneath the rug |
And retune my piano |
The Wallflower is waiting, she hides behind composure |
She’d love to dance and prays that no one asks her |
Then she steals a glance at lovers while her fingers tease her hair |
And she marvels at the confidence of those who hide their fears |
Then her eyes are closed as she rides away with a foreign legionaire |
And my shoulders had to shrug |
As I crawl beneath the rug |
And retune my piano |
Romeo is reeling, counting notches on his thighbone |
Searching for one hundred and eleven |
And he’s charming as a cherub as he leads you to his web |
Seducing queens and gypsy girls in the boudoir of his head |
Then he wraps himself with a tablecloth and pretends he is a bed |
And my shoulders had to shrug |
As I crawl beneath the rug |
And retune my piano |
The party must be over, even the Losers are leaving |
But just one doubt is nagging at my caustic mind: |
So I snuck up close behind me and I gave myself a kiss |
And I led myself to the mirror to expose what I had missed |
There I saw a laughing maniac who was writing songs like this |
And my shoulders had to shrug |
As I crawl beneath the rug |
And retune my piano |