| He’s a what?
|
| He’s a what?
|
| He’s a newspaper man
|
| And he gets his best ideas
|
| From a newspaper stand;
|
| From his boots to his pants
|
| To his comments and his rants
|
| He knows that any little article will do!
|
| Though he expresses some confusion
|
| 'Bout his part in the plan,
|
| And he can’t understand
|
| That he’s not in command;
|
| The decisions underwritten
|
| By the cash in his hand
|
| Bought a sweater for
|
| His weimariner too
|
| Now I’m no mad man,
|
| But that’s insanity
|
| Feast before famine,
|
| And more before family
|
| Goes and shows up with
|
| More bowls and more
|
| Cups and the riot for the
|
| Last hot meal erupts
|
| Corrupts his hard drive
|
| Through the leanest months
|
| Shells out the hard cash
|
| For the sickest stunts;
|
| On aftershave, on gasoline
|
| He flips the page and turns
|
| The scene
|
| In my mind I’m drowning butterflies
|
| Broken dreams and alibis;
|
| That’s fine.
|
| I’ve seen my palette blown
|
| To monochrome-
|
| Hollow heart
|
| Clicks hollowtone,
|
| It’s time.
|
| Eye on authority,
|
| Thumb prints a forgery
|
| Boy, ain’t it crazy what the
|
| Lights can do For counterfeit community;
|
| Every opportunity
|
| Wasted as the space
|
| Between the flash tattoo
|
| And the half-hearted hologram,
|
| Posed for the party
|
| Now he gloss full bleed
|
| On a deaf dumb tree
|
| Cod liver dollar signs,
|
| Credit card autograph
|
| Down for the record
|
| But not for freedom
|
| Angry young mannequin
|
| American, apparently
|
| Still to the rhythm
|
| Better get to the back of me Can’t stand the vision,
|
| Better tongue the anatomy
|
| Gold plated overhead,
|
| Blank transparency
|
| In the days of old,
|
| You were a nut
|
| Now you need three bumps
|
| Before you cut
|
| Not that I should care about,
|
| Nothing I ain’t scared of, but
|
| I guess you had to be there.
|
| In my mind I’m breeding butterflies,
|
| Broken dreams, and alibis
|
| That’s fine.
|
| I’ve seen my palette
|
| Blown to monochrome
|
| Hollow heart
|
| Clicks hollowtone
|
| In time.
|
| I see you figured in your action pose
|
| Foam-injected axl rose,
|
| Life size
|
| Should something shake you
|
| And you drop the news,
|
| Lord, just keep your dancing shoes
|
| Off mine |