The firmament of Tinsel Town

Is strung with tungsten stars

Lot's of forty watt successes

He says where's my own shining hour

He's the well kept secret of the underground

He's in debt to the company store

Because his only channelled aspiration

Was getting back that girl he had before

He's got stacks and stacks of words that rhyme

Describing what it is to lose

He's got some just for laughs

He's got some for love

That mainline to his blues

Some to shed a little light on you and on me

Some to shed a little light on the human story



The wars of pride and property

The rebel Irish and the promised land Jew

Fighting behind his eyes and over seas

Wounded in action and no ceasefire in view

Brave reporters bring the battles home

But tonight inside that box

Just more bang bang ketchup color to him

Just more Twentieth Century Fox

All because that ghostly girl comes haunting

Just out of reach-outside his bed

And she kicks the covers off his sleep

For the clumsy things he said

She commands his head-She tries his sanity

She demands his head-Tonight unknowingly



Vaguely she floats and lacelike

Blown in like a curtain on the night wind

She's nebulous and naked

He wonders where she's been

He grabs at the air because there's nothing there

Her evasiveness stings him

With long legs-long lonely legs

Bruised from banging into things

One day he was standing just outside her door

He was carrying an armload of bright balloons

She just laughed

She said she heard him knocking

And she teased him for the moon

"Is one the moon, dear clown,

Tied to a string for me?"

He tried but he could not get it down

For truth or for mystery

He tried but he could not get it down

For love or money