April the 14th, Part I

When the iceberg hit

Oh, they must have known

God moves on the water

Like Casey Jones.



So I walked downtown

On my telephone

And took a lazy turn

Through the redeye zone.



It was a five-band bill

A two-dollar show

I saw the van out in front

From Idaho.



And the girl passed out

In the backseat trash

There was no way they'd make

Even a half a tank of gas.



They looked sick and stoned

And strangely dressed

No one showed

From the local press.



But I watched 'em walk

Through the bottom land

And I wished I played

In a rock 'n' roll band.



Hey, hey

It was the fourteenth day of April.



Well they closed it down

With the sails in rags

And the swept up the fags

And the local rags.



Threw the plastic cups

In the plastic bags

And the cooks cleaned the kitchen

With the staggers and the jags.



Ruination day

And the sky was red

I went back to work

And back to bed.



And the iceberg broke

And the Okies fled

And the Great Emancipator

Took a bullet in the back of the head...