I’ve heard those thoughts waft around before
Not likely reflecting untampered
Recollections filter absent minded memories
Speaking no evil for I hear no evil
And gods of the dance hall tighten their platinum toe straps
Lifting on the One-Two-Three avenue sidewalk
Until I misunderstand requesting minds
I say to my lovers: “I’m all man, I’m all man.”
Then in Hol-e-wood I’m left cement stiff
I’m left because I’m all that’s left