MARGATE
This pendulum swings; buddy you better believe it.
This morning I'm up, by evening I'm shot,
and there's no real difference between it.
One world, one big manner,
it's all the same to me.
-
Just like the Maltese Falcon, some symbol
on the edge of becoming, I stand apart, with
a withered hand, seeking your quarters
and nickels and dimes. Do you hear me,
Lazarus man? Have you not already risen
from the dead where I still am? I hold
out my withered hand.
-
Bent like a stolid reed in a windy marshland
setting; I may give a little, but I survive
nonetheless - and I suppose with no
thanks to you. Treble the features
where enmity lives.
This pendulum swings; buddy you better believe it.
This morning I'm up, by evening I'm shot,
and there's no real difference between it.
One world, one big manner,
it's all the same to me.
-
Just like the Maltese Falcon, some symbol
on the edge of becoming, I stand apart, with
a withered hand, seeking your quarters
and nickels and dimes. Do you hear me,
Lazarus man? Have you not already risen
from the dead where I still am? I hold
out my withered hand.
-
Bent like a stolid reed in a windy marshland
setting; I may give a little, but I survive
nonetheless - and I suppose with no
thanks to you. Treble the features
where enmity lives.
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