Sunday, October 19, 2008

The Woman Without Grace

There is a story in my ear
Which seems to start this time of year
The dying grass and shades of gray
They help to keep my thoughts away
Where is the ease in easy
When a moment can’t be spared
When all the worries in your head
Are wanting to be shared
The price of gasoline
And our economy
Are sights and sounds of war
The stocks are falling
Lower than the leading limbo
Legend on his home court
A simple competition
Turns into a mass
Coalitional game
The paparazzi aim to please
The few of us
That have yet to be named fame

We made the street our stage
In order to get paid
Though many passed us by
Without a simple “Hi”
How parking was a joke
Almost as if it spoke
This city made us fear
For all the things held dear

It reached inside our nerves
To twist the things conserved
It mystified our minds
And held us all confined
The beating of our heart
Was sure to never start
The woman without grace
Will start to sing:

Riding bicycles
Everyday, everyday
Riding bicycles
Whenever there’s a way

We’ll scratch your back if you won’t worry
We’ll play a song if you’re not scared
It’s these things that try to pull us off like buttons
And place us in the drawer above the stairs