|
All I can hear is the clucking of tongues |
|
I can see them |
|
Plucking at crumbs of conversations |
|
A drunk uncle's breath |
|
And they're touching my hand |
|
As now turns into then |
|
Dream turns into dreamt |
|
Spend turns into spent |
|
One turns into one too many |
|
(Say when) |
|
And in the blue corner |
|
Crouches a mediocre joker |
|
The laughs are on me |
|
And the arch of my back cracks under the weight |
|
Of the wisecracks |
|
Stop the clock - I want to get off |
|
Though I knew what argue meant |
|
And I knew what punish meant |
|
And I knew what embarrass meant |
|
I never found out what achieve meant |
|
All heaven broke loose |
|
But I knew they had something to hide |
|
They were turning the page |
|
But I glimpsed the very last line |
|
Now we raise a toast to celebrate |
|
As December's embers fade |
|
But every fire is just a hoax |
|
For january's little joke |
