I clutch a sheaf of paperwork
Too thick to bear with grace
All signed by different people
with the same face
And all it means is maybe
But all we've ever heard is no
So here we go.
Anyway, don't rattle the bars so much
We're going to get you sprung
The rot that crowd my teeth don't crowd my tongue
And once it spins to silver all of the lead that's in my lungs
it is done
And you'll go, go, go
With me shouting "go!"
To the wind, wind, wind
And you'll turn and grin me your cruel, dumb grin
You don't know what good you'll do.
O, Gather to me, friends!
I don't want the world like I used to.
None of the sacraments
Restore it to the sky -
Anyway, I'm sure you relate with how you can't break up the chimes
Today, the next - awash in moldy time.
At the very least, you'll play the beast til the slate is frightened clean
Know what I mean?
So with time exempt
You turn your contempt
To the vast, surrounding grey
Send shards of sunlight howling down the day
And you're confused if not dismayed by all the howling that you hear, so you cock an ear
It goes "No! No! No!
Who let that go
In the wind, wind, wind?"
But nothing will weigh down your cruel, dumb grin
You don't know what good to do.
O, Darling - move my hands!
They don't grab the world like they used to.
None of the sacraments restore it to the sky-
Moderation, darling, always looked askew on me
It's why now, dear, you raze immoderately.
It's why I fought so tirelessly to lock you up before
And it's why you now darken my door.
So let it go
Point now your ire at my grin
Be avenged upon him made a beast of you
Who never knew what good to do.