|
we could do with going anywhere |
|
somewhere that we could swing |
|
i could do with going anytime |
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as long as i could swing |
|
sometimes i see almost anywhere |
|
the prostitution of talents |
|
but i'm so busy trying to bury this |
|
when almost everyone has been stripped |
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now stripped and starved of stature |
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but still must suckle the young |
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i can not impose upon myself |
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or even get a grip on my tongue |
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we have lost what we can not renew |
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that which i care for and regard |
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regarded as the most precious thing |
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we've lost the reason to swing |
