A cold and porcelain in an old New York hotel A stranger to a that she used to know so well Bathing in a bathroom is bathed in the first blue light Of the of a century at the end of an endless night
Then she is wet behind the ears and wafting the avenue Pre-rush hour, shower Stillness seeping upwards steam From molten sewer summer in New York
They've been us With in our sleep Us, about the mosquitoes Having some kind of Them, me
CIA foul if you ask the guy hair dryers out of a gym bag Chemical
"I'm you, lab rat to lab rat", he says "That's where the 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 time is an plan She tells and the air is still there And this morning even breathable
And for a the relief is unbelievable And she's a heavy sack of flour sifted her burden She's full of clean wind for one moment And then she's again
Reverted, caged and With no way to get And she's getting of little kisses But nobody's her the key
Her whole life is a list of what ifs And she doesn't know where to begin And the pageantry of suffering Rivals
TV is, after all, the modern day coliseum Human devastation as entertainment And now millions sit jeering cheering The bloodthirsty hierarchy of the patriarchal
She is a cab She is down the avenue She's 19 on 30
Or maybe really 30 now It's to say It's hard to keep up time once it's on its way
And, you know, she had much of a chance into a family built like an avalanche And somewhere in the 80's between the Oat and the Ozone She started to figure out things why
One eye pointed upwards 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 night
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 And Kerplooey done You're done for, you're done for So me did you? Did you do, did you do all you