A and porcelain lonely in an old New York hotel A stranger to a city that she used to so well Bathing in a that is bathed in the first blue light Of the beginning of a century at the end of an endless
Then she is wet behind the and wafting down the avenue hour, post-rain shower Stillness upwards like steam From molten sewer summer in New York
They've been us With in our sleep Us, Something the mosquitoes some kind of disease Them, me
CIA play if you ask the guy Selling dryers out of a gym bag Chemical
"I'm telling you, lab rat to lab rat", he "That's the truth is at" That's the truth is at That's where the is at
And everything seems to have gone wrong that can But one breath at a is an acceptable plan She herself and the air is still there And this morning it's breathable
And for a second the is unbelievable And she's a heavy of flour sifted her burden lifted She's full of clean for one lean moment And then trapped again
Reverted, caged and With no way to get And she's getting of little kisses But slippin' her the key
Her whole life is a long of what ifs And she doesn't even know to begin And the pageantry of suffering Rivals
TV is, after all, the modern day coliseum Human as mass entertainment And now sit jeering collectively cheering The bloodthirsty hierarchy of the arrangement
She is a cab She is down the avenue She's 19 on 30
Or maybe she's 30 now It's to say It's hard to keep up with once it's on its way
And, you know, she had much of a chance Born into a built like an avalanche And somewhere in the 80's between the Oat and the Ozone She to figure out things like why
One eye pointed looking for the holes in the sky One eye on the flashing red light A Picasso face twisted and listing down the Of the end of an endless
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 And Kerplooey you're You're done for, done for good So tell me did Did you do, did you do all you