Bald men were beating on oil drums
in the indoor marshalling-yards
the ceiling so high, like a brown indoor sky
and cellos and bow doors were carved.
The audience looked just like shoppers
which most, so far, had not become.
Our faces stayed blank, and we hoovered up crank,
while upstairs the roads teemed with scabs and spooks and
Cayman Cromwells.
Say goodbye to sadness
now each hearbeat matters
say goodbye to beauty, ruin, rainbows, springtime, death...
Brittle blue slivers of morning
poked into Frank's piggy eyes
he shivered through sweat as he sat there on set
and a researcher spooned him cocaine.
He spoke of the need for more layoffs
as (his) golf pals suggested he do.
Technology stuff would mop the lives up,
computer graphics and digital bluff.
Now he's an old man with shakes and one kidney,
& his premonition is our condition,
he's melting, he's melting, say it, say it...
Say good bye to sadness
now each heartbeat matters
say good bye to beauty, ruin, rainbows, springtime,
credit, blackmail, open kisses,
drugs and sorrow, despair, wonder, ivy-covered frozen graveyards
and the slowly-waning sun.
