Soul Singer In A Session Band
See the Soul Singer in the session bandShredded to ribbons beneath a microphone standFelt the quickness of pity like a flash in a panFor the Soul Singer in the session band
Now a red carpet bagger makes a Blackberry callTo the plastic piranhas in the city of saltWasted wheat paste campaign post no bills on the wallYou mean nothing to no one but that's nobody's fault
See the Soul Singer in the session bandShredded to ribbons beneath a microphone standFelt the quickness of pity like a flash in a panFor the Soul Singer in the session band
I had a lengthy discussion about The Power of MythWith a post-modern author who didn't existIn this fictitious world all reality twistsI was a hopeless romantic now I'm just turning tricks
Just like that Soul Singer in the session bandShredded confetti beneath a microphone standSaw the Conflict of Interest slipping cash in the handOf the Soul Singer in the session band
His room is on fire since he painted it redThere are a stranger's silk sequins at the foot of the bedHe has been to weddings and funerals but he still never weptNow sorrow is pleasure when you want it instead
Just like the Soul Singer in the session bandWailed like an infant atop a white baby grandWe'll need every sand bag and every manTo save the Soul Singer in the session band
Headlights or Taillights it's a flip of a coinI have been coming and going since the day I was bornAnd I followed the breadcrumbs but I never got homeI grew old in an instant now I am all on my own
Just like that Soul Singer in the session bandShredded to nothing beneath the microphone standSaw the wave of the future through the crack of the damDrowned the Soul Singer in the session bandBless the Soul singer in the session band