If you have a clue to what they might be, please email me.
Do you remember that night when you put up a fight
Saying you could never feel that much
You said hold me tight, yeah rub me just right
But not where it's too tender to the touch
You said epitaph carvers
Drank with midnight embalmers
Talkin' about how they dressed up their men
And the funeral director was another marriage collector
Who sang ballads to his biggest fans
While throwing headstones at his children
Smacking their hands telling them to behave
They can keep their eyes open
They can keep their mouths shut
About that all night rave
Now remember that queen at the Burger King
Said he'd hook us up from time to time
He knew we were short on bread and with nothing more said
He poured that appleberry wine
And it was a sweet release from that masterful peace
That passed through the dance crowd to the other side
But how could that evening gown ever outsing the sound
Of the prophet mixer spirit guide
Now the queen she blasted her cheekbones
As her eyes, they melted away
But no one tasted the tears as they welled on up
Down in her all night rave
Now remember that man
In his wheelchair my friend
He was carefully timing out his fate
He said "crossing this road, i
She's a panhandling menace
She recites poetry in the moonlit alley
She said she tried to head
For the hills many times before
But she always got stuck in the valley
She said "would you like to hear one of my songs in Spanish?"
I said "yeah, okay, you're gonna to sing one so go ahead sure."
Well I didn't know what it meant
But it sure did sound pretty
In a language I guess I should have studied more
But she did not resent me for my lack of knowledge
She said "you just pick these things up along the way."
Well there are many different schools
But there's only one course
Down in this all night rave
So don't you remember that night
When you put up a fight
Saying you could never feel that much
You said hold me tight, yeah rub me just right
But not where it's too tender to the touch
Now good writers borrow
Great writers steal
Actors, poets, painters, politicians, great creators and such
But after 2000 years or more of this history my friend
You know something original might be asking far too much
So this is my confession
This is by no means my progression
To the past I am enslaved
So I turn down the beat
Turn up the speed of light
And end t