Thursday, February 8, 2007

If you'll be my bodyguard...

A man walks down the street, He says why am I soft in the middle now? Why am I soft in the middle? The rest of my life is so hard! I need a photo-opportunity, I want a shot at redemption, Don't want to end up a cartoon, In a cartoon graveyard. You know I don't find this stuff amusing anymore.

If you'll be my bodyguard I can be your long lost pal.

A man walks down the street, he says why am I short of attention, got a short little span of attention and my nights are so long, where's my wife and family? What if I die here? Who'll be my role-model? Now that my role-model is gone, gone, he ducked back down the alley with some roly-poly little bat-faced girl. All along, along, there were incidents and accidents. There were hints and allegations.

If you'll be my bodyguard, I can be your long lost pal.

A man walks down the street, it's a street in a strange world. Maybe it's the Third World, maybe it's his first time around. He doesn't speak the language, he holds no currency, he is a foreign man, he is surrounded by the sound. The sound, cattle in the marketplace. Scatterlings and orphanages. He looks around, around, he sees angels in the architecture, spinning in infinity. He says Amen! and Hallelujah!

If you'll be my bodyguard, I can be your long lost pal.

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