Today he speaks
Of the promised land,
In rhymed lines
Sung by his friends.
Tomorrow he sits
Down on you,
Looking from
A jester's point of view,
He sees a disgrace
(Said the man) to his race,
And It's hard to see
Blinded by this reverie.
He goes by sea,
He goes by land,
But it's really God's plan
Done by His right hand.
Then one day
Loom a voice that will say,
Pick a straw
That will never lead astray.
And a man does what man does
When the cowed flock does not.
Today he stands
On the caravan,
Tomorrow he's down
Out with a 'bang!'
Then the papers out
With a headline that reads;
It's Frankenstein with a beard
And a heart that bleeds.
_______
And that newspaper fucking sells.
