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Cartoon blues

par Bright Eyes

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I listen to a lecture of nonsense till dawn.
By a plagiary poet with dark glasses on.
He said "how did you ever dream up that song?
The one where the baby dies."
I said I´ll tell you the secret which one´s your good ear?
Yeah, people are made up of water and fear
If there weren´t women present we wouldn´t be here.
So lets make like we´re friends.
Then the pot turned to powder and soured the mood
And the people I come with were gone from the room.
So I asked like a child may I be excused?
and disobeyed them all.
Into that late night latrine rain soaking through my shoes.
I tried walking backwards to get less confused.
Working off a theory I could never prove
That it was life itself to blame.
And time ruined the world
like a failed revolution.
A tumor we could not remove.
An old friend, a constant, the blues.
Now my days are distractions that ring in my hands.
Solitaire crosswords and films on demand.
Return from a cartoon back into a man.
You start to smell that human smell.
And so I sleep with the fan on to drown out the street,
and the noise rising up from the bar underneath.
For that inconvenience all my drinks are free
So I guess it´s just as well.
Why do I envy the ending right from the start?
Just get it together to take it apart.
Watching the horse as it follows the cart.
I sweep up my broken spell.
And I felt something changing the world
like a new constitution
A thief I would have to pursue
at all times at all costs.
The truth.
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