Strangers When We Improv

All my friends

They all seem so thin and frail

Slinky secrets

Hotter than the sun

 Don’t be depressed

Well there’s no trendy rechauffé

I’m with you

Oh, but I can go on

All my violence raining tears upon the sheets, mm-hmm

I’m bewildered

For we’re strangers when we meet

Oh-ooh

Mm-mm

1995 was a year

It was a year of change and confusion

And, uh, the internet

Internets…

These were the days before SNS and

Bowienet, even

Well, we were just, you and I

Sitting around and wondering

What the future would bring

Weren’t we?

We were so young, so young

We rained our violence on the sheets

We made it all disappear

In this cloud of smoke, we couldn’t see

The bristles on your eyes

The Minotaur’s flesh and his coat of

Furry…resilience

He was trapped in his own lair

Reading books about Futurism and

Piercing his flesh and tattooing his back

With the figures, they didn’t know

And neither did we

We were holed up in the Motel

Together where there was no hell

We could fly on the wings

Of a bird, of a plane

It was before the rain

It was before, it was before Ukraine

It was before all of the tensions around the globe

And yet, there was a man

He saw the future

He saw that things were turning

They were gonna move away

Poor soul

We wouldn’t know what hit you

Your poor soul

Poor soul

The dunces knew the things we had

We were but a pair of innocent babes, oh

Ooh

Way back there at the Laugh Motel

At the Laugh Motel

Ramona, oh Ramona

Did we learn the heart’s filthy lesson well?

Or have we forgotten it?

And will we go now

Down to hell

In the Lair of the Minotaur

There’s nowhere for a poor and lonely

And ignored Artist to go these days…

I wish I had another broken man like Elon

I mean, uh, Elias

The one who required brain patches

The Second Commander in Chief

The one who stopped the ‘Nets from

Spreading their light too far

He couldn’t let the war go on

He wanted to stop it in its tracks

He wanted to charge us for his “Extras”

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But, you know

I’m still gettin’ ahead of myself

Always getting ahead of myself

Don’t tell God your plans

There’s no control

We’ve lost control

Ground Control

Can you hear me up there?

Major Tom

We know Major Tom’s not a monkey

 He’s evolved beyond that

He’s gone upupupup into the stars

Up there, where there’s a Spaceboy

Up in the trees, up in the Rhein…gold

Rheingold, Rheingold

Well I see it all thru’ these architect’s eyes

I’ve seen the future

I know how to explore Outer Space

We’re not alone

You’re not alone

Under the lilac tree

Out there

Ooh

A recoiled boomerang

Can you find the Golden Chalice?

We know that there is no end to this spiral

It’s an unending, unending spiral

Leon knew this, back in the Laugh Motel

Back in Oxford Town

Back in the pocket

Those were the days

Let me wax poetic

It was an ok riot

Ok riot! Ok riot!

But the enemy is fragile, oh

The enemy is so fragile…

And so we built the bomb

Which was the best that we could do

Then we waited for Leon

And Paddy’s eye lens, and…

Algeria’s touch-shriek

Telephone messages

Cold coffee and stale bagels and

Uncle Floyd and satellites and Oogie and

All that stuff and then, you know

The Blackstar came

He landed inside

And that was how the story ended

Poor soul

Spit upon that poor soul!

You and I

We had such wishful beginnings

I’m sorry little girl…

(Well, I guess that’s a take)