A and porcelain lonely in an old New York hotel A stranger to a city that she used to know so Bathing in a bathroom that is bathed in the blue light Of the beginning of a at the end of an endless night
Then she is wet behind the and wafting down the avenue Pre-rush hour, post-rain Stillness seeping upwards steam From another sewer summer in New York
been spraying us With in our sleep Us, Something about the Having some of disease Them, me
CIA foul if you ask the guy Selling hair 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 the truth is at
And everything seems to have gone terribly that can But one breath at a time is an acceptable She tells herself and the air is there And morning it's even breathable
And for a second the is unbelievable And she's a heavy sack of flour her burden lifted She's of clean wind for one lean moment And then she's again
Reverted, caged and With no way to get And she's getting plenty of little But slippin' her the key
Her whole life is a list of what ifs And she doesn't even where to begin And the of suffering therein Rivals
TV is, all, the modern day roman coliseum Human devastation as entertainment And now sit jeering collectively cheering The bloodthirsty hierarchy of the patriarchal
She is a cab She is sailing the avenue 19 going on 30
Or maybe she's 30 now It's to say It's hard to up with time once it's on its way
And, you know, she never had of a chance Born into a family built an avalanche And in the 80's between the Oat Bran and the Ozone She to figure out things like why
One eye pointed upwards for the holes in the sky One eye on the little flashing red A Picasso face twisted and listing down the Of the end of an night
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 And Kerplooey you're You're for, you're done for good So tell me did Did you do, did you do all you