Through the rain

And all the clatter

Under the freemont bridge
I saw a pigeon fly

Fly in fear

From a raptor

Come to take it's life

And as it closed

In for the capture

I funnelled the fear through my ancient eyes

Se in flight what I know are the bitter mechanics of life

Under my hat

It reads

The lines are all imagined

A fact of life

I know

To hide from my little girls

I know my place amongst

The bugs and all the animals

And it's from these ordinary people

You were longing to be free

In my hotel

And on the TV

A preacher on the stage

Like a buzzard cries

Out a warning

Of phony sorrow

Hes trying to get a rise

Cyanide from an almond

Let him look at your hands

Get the angles right

Ace of spades

Port of morrow

Life is death
Is life

I saw a photograph

Of cologne in 27

And then a postcard after the bombs in 45

Must have been a world of evil clowns

That let it happen

But now I recognize

Dear listeners

That you were there
And so was I

Under my hat I know

The lines are all imagined

A fact of life I must impress on my little girls

I know my place amongst

The creatures
In the pageant

And there are flowers

In the garbage

And a skull

Under your curls