I just want a couple condos in a couple world cities
And a twenty-five year old babe for a wife
Like all the other movie stars get
But they’ve signed me up for this tour of the mystic
Not sure what I’ll see there between being and non-being
I wouldn’t want to go for fear of no longer needing my baby doll and all those other prizes I’m always almost about to win
Any day now
I want to save democracy, free speech, and the right to choose good government; but with Beauty
That’s my specialty: Beauty = Truth = Goodness = Fair Play (“Justice” has made so much trouble; not the eternal Good “Justice”, but the concept of “Justice”, which seems to bend so easily into “Eternal Revenge”).
I want to settle down and have a family as a considerably younger man in a city in the sun that the bombs can never ever find
But now I’m buckled into this journey into the great beyond, into the “mystic”, they call it.
So all I can do is listen to the water running through the pipes
I think my shoulders are too tense for entrance into the mystic
Something to do with the dress code