Bad Books

The Easy Mark & the Old Maid
Some men collapse at the racetrackTheir wrong and beat up, their eyes blackOthers wilt in casinosRoll dice and piss away speedboatsSome dissolve into bar stoolsScratched off in boxes and playoff poolsI spent myself on a psychicI lost my way and a friend said she would find itMan, we were wrong.Man, we were wrong.I asked for the future,She only sang me a song.Some men they go make their own luckGrow fat from feeding on lame ducksThe easy mark and the old maidThe invalid and the ingrateOthers wait for that high signSome holy hoax in the tree-lineMe, I'm counting my canned foodBunkered down waiting out our slingshot moodsBut what if I'm wrong?What if I'm wrong?I'll open my doors upPeople, come sweep me along.Letras de cancionesEyes are fixed and my palms are spreadDissonance floats my shipwrecked headGod sleeps in the Gaza stripAnd man alone's left alone to live with itThe coin-flip faith of the optimistIt's beginners luck in a sewing kitWhat's to do when there is no fixOn the unflinching ambivalence?But you say that's wrongHopeless and wrongWe re-thread your needle,You say, "God, play along." From Letras Mania