A cold and porcelain lonely in an old New York A stranger to a city that she used to know so Bathing in a bathroom that is bathed in the 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, post-rain Stillness seeping upwards steam From another molten sewer summer in New
been spraying us With chemicals in our Us, Something the mosquitoes some kind of disease Them, me
CIA play if you ask the guy Selling hair out of a gym bag Chemical
"I'm you, lab rat to lab rat", he says "That's the truth is at" That's where the is at That's the truth is at
And everything to have gone terribly wrong that can But one breath at a time is an acceptable She tells and the air is still there And this morning even breathable
And for a second the is unbelievable And she's a heavy sack of sifted her burden lifted She's full of clean wind for one lean And then she's again
Reverted, and contorted no way to get free And she's getting plenty of kisses But nobody's her the key
Her whole is a long list of what ifs And she doesn't even know where to And the of suffering therein television
TV is, after all, the modern day coliseum Human as mass entertainment And now millions sit jeering collectively The bloodthirsty of the patriarchal arrangement
She is a cab She is sailing the avenue 19 going on 30
Or maybe really 30 now hard to say It's to keep up with time once it's on its way
And, you know, she never had of a chance into a family built like an avalanche And somewhere in the 80's the Oat Bran and the Ozone She started to figure out things why
One eye upwards looking for the holes in the sky One eye on the little flashing red A Picasso twisted and listing down the canvas Of the end of an endless
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