DESCRIPTION:
Dead in the water, It's not a paid vacation. The sons and daughters, of city officials attend demonstrations. It's hardly a sink or swim, when all is well if the ticket sells. Out with a whimper, It's not a blaze of glory. You look down from the temple, as people endeavor to make it a story. And chisel a marble word, but all is lost if It's never heard. But I've got someone to make reports, that tell me how my money's spent. To book my stays, and draw my blinds. So I can't tell what's really there...and all I need is a great big CONGRATULATIONS. I'll keep your dreams, you pay attention for me. As strange as it seems, I rather dissolve than have you ignore me. The ground may be moving fast but I tied my to boots to a broken mast. The difference is clear. You throw it in your couldron. Rust veneer, dusk and dawn Steinways and Baldwins.You start with a simple stock of all the waste, and salt to taste. But damn my luck and damn these friends. Keep on combing back their smiles. I save my grace, with half-assed guilt. And lay down the quilt upon the lawn. Spread my arms and soak up C O N G R A T U L A T I O N S.