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like an angry old man, shaking a fist at the sky...

Friday, December 17, 2004

song

and the moment will come, when composure returns
put a face on the world, turn your back to the wall
and you walk twenty yards with your head in the air
down the liberty hill where the fashion brigade
looks with curious eyes on your raggedy way
and for once in your life, you've got nothing to say
and could this be the time when somebody will come
to say "look at yourself, you're not much use to anyone"

take a walk in the park, take a valium pill
read the letter you got from the memory girl
but it takes more than this to make sense of the day
yeah, it takes more than milk to get rid of the taste
and you trusted to this, and you trusted to that
when you saw it all come, it was waving the flag
of the united states of calamity, hey
after all that you've done, boy, i know you're going to pay

in the morning you come to the ladies salon
to get all fitted out for the paperback throne
but the people are living far away from the place
where you wanted to help, you're a bit of a waste
and the puzzle will last till somebody will say
"there's a lot to be done while your head is still young"
if you put down your pen, leave the worries behind
then the morning will come, and the memory will shine

now the trouble is over, everybody got paid
everybody is happy, they are glad that they came
and you go to the place where you finally found
you can look at yourself, sleep the clock around

sleep the clock around
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