The Sinking Ship The Grand Applause - The Paper Chase

Grandfather burned up to ash

And returned to the earth.

Which he spawned

This nefarious prank

That’s controlled by the length

Of his arms.

And the kindred is gathered

By coffin and chaplain,

On his behalf.

And a discreet tender man

Clears his throat,

Waves his hand,

Following a laugh.

And the band plays on.

Like a fat baby’s birth,

Like a cry and a curse

At the breathing space,

While the mother rejoices

Ten fingers, ten toes

And a handsome face.

And the family is gasping.

Each one can’t help asking,

«How was it, my dear?»

Like a scorn for the one

That was torn and deformed

For the next cruel years.

And the band plays on.

So I’ll cut you all open.

I’ll see what’s inside you

Or what’s missing.

While this virgin,

Your daughter,

Skirt down in the altar-

She don’t owe you a God damn thing,

'Cause she’s gorgeous.

I’ll take her to

The house by the lake,

Where I’ll write her a song.

While you fat pigs with call-girls:

They dance in the ballrooms

Shaking their wallets at God.

And the notes fill the pages

As I scramble to paste up

My bleeding heart.

And this sick song moves on,

If you’re lucky lifelong,

You can sing a part.

As it falls apart.