|
Where's the tattooed muscle men |
|
with furled brows a-pullin'? |
|
Where's the buxom fashion queen |
|
with thin-aired curls a-curlin'? |
|
Where's the angry nomad minstrel |
|
growlin' out a lullaby? |
|
Where's the edgy circus folk? |
|
Or have they said goodbye? |
|
Where's the soiled and rusty builders |
|
welding iron sculptures? |
|
Where's the clockwork fellow-beaters |
|
circled in like vultures? |
|
Where's the darkened cabaret |
|
filled with new nostalgics? |
|
Where has everything I loved gone? |
|
Oh, the loss is tragic! |
|
All alone in a crowd |
|
With strangers who all know me |
|
And I try to be friends |
|
But there's no one here who chose me |
|
Should I run? |
|
Should I hide? |
|
Should I change my life completely? |
|
Should I hold me inside? |
|
Or keep my anger hid discreetly? |
|
Where's the crazy fire folk |
|
spinning warmth a-blazin'? |
|
Where's the muscled aerialist |
|
in the sky amazing? |
|
Where's the dreadlocked cowboy |
|
head-to-toe in ancient leather? |
|
Where's the pretty painted ladies |
|
behind their fans of feathers? |
|
All alone in a crowd |
|
With strangers who all know me |
|
And I try to be friends |
|
But there's no one here who chose me |
|
Should I run? |
|
Should I hide? |
|
Should I change my life completely? |
|
Should I hold me inside? |
|
Or keep my anger hid discreetly? |
|
Where's the slender flapper girls |
|
in silken gowns and pearls? |
|
Where's the threadbare waltzers |
|
paintin' the floors in curls? |
|
Where's my life-confirming friends |
|
or did I ever have them? |
|
Where's the brazen, angry artists? |
|
Tell me what replaced them! |
|
All alone in a crowd |
|
With strangers who all know me |
|
And I try to be friends |
|
But there's no one here who chose me |
|
Should I run? |
|
Should I hide? |
|
Should I change my life completely? |
|
Should I hold me inside? |
|
Or keep my anger hid discreetly? |
