I don't want to be a fishmonger
I've only got one thing in mind
To lay awake and sleep no longer
And get out of this messy bind.
Theres plenty of vomit in the sands of time
To lay awake and think everything is fine.
Keep your hat on and go on wondering why
A volture's staring at you as its flying by.
The scavenger knows you're dead inside
And while it is true that its unkind
It has a bag with shoes of those who died
And its passing them out to all outside.
Old shoes wont take you far, its true
They are good to walk some miles, but few.
While they undo themselves your life is through
For waiting silently in a small lagoon.
