| The sheriff disappeared
|
| He drove in a doomed Corvette
|
| Helen was in the passenger seat eating melon and spitting out the seeds
|
| Feeling happy to be alone but still turning a saxophone as cold as stone kinda
|
| like
|
| She said this is what the apocalypse will look like
|
| A tornado with human eyes
|
| Poisoned birdbaths and torrents of chemical rain
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| Like the heads of state hyperventilating in clouds of methane
|
| Sundown on the human heart
|
| And this is what the apocalypse will sound like
|
| But it will be loud as a mushroom cloud
|
| It will sound like final jeopardy
|
| But somehow be ghostly like a glockenspiel
|
| Like the testing of bombs or the tapping of stiletto heels
|
| It will sound like jazz
|
| Jazz jazz jazz
|
| Jazz on the autobahn
|
| It will sound like jazz
|
| Jazz jazz jazz
|
| Jazz on the autobahn
|
| The sheriff disagreed
|
| He tried to make the distinction between death and extinction
|
| They stopped off at a place called Hamburger Heaven to grab a bite to eat
|
| But Helen had no appetite, she just drank a 7 Up
|
| while the sheriff tapped his coffee cup to a distant beat
|
| It won’t look like those old frescoes, man I don’t think so
|
| There will be no angels with swords, man I don’t think so
|
| No jubilant beings in the sky above, man I don’t think so
|
| And it won’t look like those old movies neither
|
| There will be no drag racing through the bombed out streets neither
|
| No shareholders will be orbiting the earth, man neither
|
| It will be hard to recognize each other through our oxygen masks
|
| The successful sons of businessmen will set their desks on fire
|
| While 5-star generals of the free world weep in the oil chocked tide
|
| It won’t sound like jazz
|
| Jazz jazz jazz
|
| Jazz on the autobahn
|
| It won’t sound like jazz
|
| Jazz jazz jazz
|
| Jazz on the autobahn
|
| They agreed to disagree
|
| They zoomed off in a doomed Corvette
|
| The sheriff couldn’t recall feeling this way his entire life
|
| As he drove through the principalities of unreality
|
| On the run with somebody else’s wife
|
| The heiress of Texas oil
|
| What is freedom? |
| He thought
|
| Is it to be empty of desire?
|
| Is it to find everything I’ve lost or have been in search of?
|
| Or is it to return to the things is which there is no more returning?
|
| Does it feel like jazz?
|
| Jazz jazz jazz
|
| Jazz on the autobahn
|
| Does it feel like jazz?
|
| Jazz jazz jazz
|
| Jazz on the autobahn
|
| Does it feel like jazz?
|
| Jazz jazz jazz
|
| Jazz on the autobahn
|
| Does it feel like jazz?
|
| Jazz jazz jazz
|
| Jazz on the autobahn
|
| Does it feel like jazz?
|
| Jazz jazz jazz
|
| Jazz on the autobahn
|
| Does it feel like jazz?
|
| Jazz jazz jazz
|
| Jazz on the autobahn |