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It's Christmas Day in Gay Paris
Not so gay for Galen Z
Sixteen hours in a sweaty kitchen
For money that makes
Minimum wage look good
6 AM on the subway (On the subway)
Stop station, through the doorway (Through the...)
Crowds of people
Running, yelling, screaming
"What's going on? Oh no, I must be dreaming!"
And the city forgets
They didn't even perceive
And the trains keep blowing up, week after week
Franzel's traveled wide and far
Back from the USSR
Went there to pursue a lifelong calling
You found only numb toes and helpless longing
Now you're back at home today
Back in the old USA
Scoop up handfuls of your native dust
And cross the country in a Greyhound bus
Another failed attempt
It's no use trying to pretend
Now you're right back where you started again
I saw what's wrong but I didn't see how
I saw, I saw
We're all grown up now (We're all grown up now)
Today's your twentieth birthday
Alone you walk the banks of Maine
As time runs out to write the second verse of
"The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"
While you're gone we'll be here still (Be here still)
Just beyond those distant hills
Could be that you've got the upper hand
When you left this rustic never, never land
And my breathing constricts
I feel the walls closing in
Could it be? That finally we're all shedding some skin!
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