Dancing Choose

He's a what? He's a what? He's a newspaper man

And he gets his best ideas from a newspaper stand

From his boots to his pants to his comments and his rants

He knows that any little article will do

Though he expresses some confusion 'bout his part in the plan

And he can't understand that he's not in command

The decisions underwritten by the cash in his hand

Bought a sweater for his weimaraners too

Now I'm no mad man but that's insanity

Feast before famine and more before family

Goes and shows up with more bowls and more

Cups and the riot for the last hot meal erupts

Corrupts his hard drive through the leanest months

Shells out the hard cash for the sickest stunts

On aftershave, on gasoline

He flips the page and turns the scene

In my mind I'm drowning butterflies

Broken dreams and alibis, that's fine

I've seen my palette blown to monochrome

Hollow heart clicks hollow tone it's time

Eye on authority, thumb prints a forgery

Boy ain't it crazy what the lights can do

For counterfeit community every opportunity

Wasted as the space between the flash tattoo

And the half-hearted hologram posed for the party

Now he gloss full bleed on a deaf dumb tree

Cod liver dollar signs, credit card autograph

Down for the record but not for freedom

Angry young mannequin, American apparently

Still to the rhythm better get to the back of me

Can't stand the vision, better tongue the anatomy

Gold plated overhead blank transparency

In the days of old you were a nut

Now you need three bumps before you cut

Not that I should care about, nothing I ain't scared of

But I guess, you had to be there

In my mind I'm breeding butterflies

Broken dreams and alibis, that's fine

I've seen my palette blown to monochrome

Hollow heart clicks hollow tone in time

I see you figured in your action pose

Foam injected Axl Rose life size

Should something shake you and you drop the news

Lord just keep your dancing shoes off mine