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 your 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 why can't you 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'd rather dissolve than have you ignore me

The ground may be moving fast but
I tied my boots to a broken mast

The difference is clear
You throw it in your cauldron
Rust and 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
That keep on combing back their smiles
I saved my grace with half-assed guilt
And lay down the quilt upon the lawn
Spread my arms and soak up
Congratulations!