Grounded

Doctor's leaving for the holiday season

Got crystal ice picks, no gift for the gab

And in the parking lot is a sedan he bought

He never, he never complains when it's hot

He phoned the foreign daughter in a sauna playing contract bridge

They're soaking up the fauna, doing blotters

I don't know which...which...which...

Boys are dying on these streets



I know the medical world could knock you out

To sell the coins that you jayed last Thursday

Dine by candelight and hold your savings tight

You never, you never know when the bridge falls apart



We spoke of latent causes, sterile gauzes

And the bedside morale

We traipse around the table talking sentences

So incomplete... please! plea!

Boys are dying on these streets...