georgie in the morning
dreams that it's his birthday,
gives himself another,
gets up and drinks a beer.

georgie in the pantry,
feeling for his eyeballs,
thinks about a shower
and sees these shapes appear.



whatcha doin' here?
i beg your pardon?
whatcha doin' here?
please let me through.
whatcha doin' here?
i beg your pardon?
watcha doin' here?
what should i do?

georgie in the sunshine,
brains are frying slowly,
always window shopping,
never buys a thing.

watch another movie
skim another magazine.
leering quiet monsters,
peering from the cover.

maybe it's a phase?
it seems more like a lifetime.
he needs a moral compass
the boy scouts never gave.

georgie's got a few holes
leaking out his wisdom.
a dumpy demonstration
across the finish line.

watcha doin' here . . .

faces all around him,
promise him a real life,
reaching for his motivation
and the situation
he's tried to leave behind.

and georgie sits alone
starts chattin' with his shadow.
super-hero questionnaires
ain't what they used to be.

he leaves no certain trail.
he's off to see the wizard.
maybe if you're lucky
you'll see him pass your way.

whatcha doin' here . . .