He's a what?

He's a what?

He's a newspaper man

And he gets his best ideas

From a newspaper stand;

From his boots to his pants

To his comments and his rants

He knows that any little article will do!



Though he expresses some confusion

'Bout his part in the plan,

And he can't understand

That he's not in command;

The decisions underwritten

By the cash in his hand

Bought a sweater for

His weimariner too



Now I'm no mad man,

But that's insanity

Feast before famine,

And more before family

Goes and shows up with

More bowls and more

Cups and the riot for the

Last hot meal erupts

Corrupts his hard drive

Through the leanest months

Shells out the hard cash

For the sickest stunts;

On aftershave, on gasoline

He flips the page and turns

The scene



In my mind I'm drowning butterflies

Broken dreams and alibis;

That's fine.

I've seen my palette blown

To monochrome-

Hollow heart

Clicks hollowtone,

It's time.



Eye on authority,

Thumb prints a forgery

Boy, ain't it crazy what the

Lights can do

For counterfeit community;

Every opportunity

Wasted as the space

Between the flash tattoo



And the half-hearted hologram,

Posed for the party

Now he gloss full bleed

On a deaf dumb tree

Cod liver dollar signs,

Credit card autograph

Down for the record

But not for freedom



Angry young mannequin

American, apparently

Still to the rhythm

Better get to the back of me

Can't stand the vision,

Better tongue the anatomy

Gold plated overhead,

Blank transparency

In the days of old,

You were a nut

Now you need three bumps

Before you cut

Not that I should care about,

Nothing I ain't scared of, but

I guess you had to be there.



In my mind I'm breeding butterflies,

Broken dreams, and alibis

That's fine.

I've seen my palette

Blown to monochrome

Hollow heart

Clicks hollowtone

In time.



I see you figured in your action pose

Foam-injected axl rose,

Life size

Should something shake you

And you drop the news,

Lord, just keep your dancing shoes

Off mine