i listened to a lecture of nonsense til 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 let's make like we're friends."
and the pot turned to powder and soured the mood
and the people i'd 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 the theory i could never prove
that it was life itself to blame
Imn time we'll win the world
like a failed revolution
a tumour we could not remove
an old friend
a constant
the blues
now my days are distractions, sit wringing my hands
solitaire, crosswords and films on demand
when you turn from a cartoon back into a man
you start to smell that human smell
so i sleep with the fan on to drown out the street
and the noise rising up from the bar underneath
but 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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