Perfect Sense, Pt. I

Stop, Dave Will you stop, Dave? Stop, Dave I'm afraid I'm afraid, Dave Dave, my mind is going I can feel it I can feel it My mind is going There is no question about it I can feel it I can feel it I can feel it I'm afraid The monkey sat on a pile of stones And he stared at the broken bone in his hand The strains of a Viennese quartet rang out across the land And the monkey looked up at the stars And he thought to himself "Memory is a stranger, history is for fools" And he cleaned his hands in a pool of holy writing Turned his back on the garden, and set out for the nearest town Hold on, hold on, soldier When you add it all up, the tears and the marrowbone There's an ounce of gold and an ounce of pride in each ledger And the Germans killed the Jews And the Jews killed the Arabs And the Arabs killed the hostages And that is the news And is it any wonder That the monkey's confused? He said, "Mama, mama The President's a fool Why do I have to keep reading these technical manuals?" And the Joint Chiefs of Staff And the brokers on Wall Street said "Don't make us laugh, you're a smart kid Time is linear, memory is a stranger History is for fools Man is a tool in the hands of the great God Almighty" And they gave him command Of a nuclear submarine Sent him back In search of the Garden of Eden