No. 49

Lifelessness cries from the fountain of youth Lawyers debate the meaning of truth In the judge's chamber he downs his gin and Vermouth And he cries when he sees his refl ection The lost postman wanders American streets Past Henry the VIII who quietly eats Being entertained by a drunk quoting Keats Who pays a dollar a week for protection Oh Mama, Mama where have you gone You left your little boy here all alone Music plays in the small cafes They converse of Marlon Brando in his younger days The backroom manager's quoting off-Broadway plays Because the feelings that he feels are not real Politicians shake my hand under the el They don't have to show me I can easily tell That it isn't their smiles they're trying to sell But the bad hand of another deal Oh Mama, Mama where have you gone You left your little boy here all alone By the pool sits a broken athlete Who drowns his pain from his head to his feet Since he's retired he can swallow defeat Because his life is no longer a game The old man sits alone with his toast and tea Watching Jackie Gleason on his old TV. Working for the transit authority And just like Jackie he feels the same Oh Mama, Mama where have you gone You left your little boy here all alone Well it gets mighty cold after dark I was walking alone through Battery Park Down to the South I saw a spark Coming from the lady's candle She stood with grace and liberty All by herself out in the sea Leaning down she whispered to me "This is probably more than you can handle." Oh Mama, Mama where have you gone You left your little boy here all alone