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d'archangel rises with eyes that accuse. A bouquet of black orchids for you |
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as you weep in the ruins of all that you knew, of all that you cherished, |
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of all you possessed. It's a mess! And the message is scrawled on the wall. |
|
It says > God bless what's left. And what's right ? |
|
And what's wrong? Well, we still have the songs - but where are you |
|
Gershwin now that we need you? God how we need you... And down in the city |
|
of heartbreak and needles, a needle is rammed and a new dream begins. And |
|
the subway's a hospital - beds on the tracks. And the victims are cracked |
|
under bandages, wrapped in their oxygen tents. Looking tense because the |
|
doctor's demented and holding a pin... and if they cry out, he'll hammer it |
|
in. Yes, Gershwin is grinning > God how I need you right |
|
now... Watch Washington wash in what's left of the Whitehouse. Hear Hendrix |
|
make love to his ghost. Hear Abraham, Marin and John sing a song as they |
|
snip at your hair, as they butter their toast. Fred Astaire sings along as |
|
he skips down the stairs of the Pentagon. Gone! It's all gone - the |
|
American dream. |
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... Christ, it's only a dream. But where are you, George? Now that we need |
|
you... |
