reliance on getting this near Don't leave me alone! Having regular good times - good times - usually late - usually late Passing through the uncertain state Through the flinch
Invisible people with invisible hands Holding very obvious collection cans Anonymous people with anonymous jobs Hurry past for fear of being late for
With detailed precision Nothing omitted Made the incision Cut to what fitted None of the trends None of the friends of the packaging crew Who sells
Blind people must fall in love with a sense of mind, a sense of touch But when you insist on finding shadows in which to kiss And down the lights to
Growling as I smile and stare from the other side of the street Is it the speed I'm walking at or the shoes upon my feet? I couldn't afford the baseball
Acclimatized slowly to image distortion Selling the wares and wearing so thin Which is worse? To be in or out of proportion? Documentality always stays
Vacancy - Room to let any dumb ideas in to this empty head "Gospel, man!" - Don't quote me please, it was the first thing I thought but now it's been
We went up to the building site Saw the bricks and the concrete piles And watched them all working Building muscles and no-one smiled We stood around
Well, I don't know who invented the clock But it began a process that will never stop At the age of six or seven or so It was a decoration that went
you laugh stop laughing i lack in eslf-esteem too little too late no one will find us here pointed fingers at painted faces don't think twice just point
every time i turn around - all you ever try to do is shut me down - all i have to say to you is that there is nothing between me and you - everytime
day dreaming as i take this routine stroll leap over sidewalks skipping stones to ripple this still reservoir i've been mislead i've hindered someone
By Jorge Calderon and Warren Zevon Lear jet S.W.A.T team On a midnight run With the M16 And the Ingram gun We parachute in We parachute out "Death
(Instrumental)
written by Warren Zevon I've got a bird that whistles I've got a bird that sings I've got a bird that . . . I've got a bird . . . I'm worried about
written by Warren Zevon I want to live alone in the desert I want to be like Georgia O'Keefe I want to live on the Upper East Side And never go down
Written By Warren Zevon & LeRoy P. Marinell Well, he went down to dinner in his Sunday best Excitable boy, they all said And he rubbed the pot roast
Written By Warren Zevon & Jorge Calderon I started as an alter boy, working at the church Learning all my holy moves, doing some research Which led