The Big (Myopian) Buck Boy Spins

I like his place and I like his pipes.

No way he be where winter ripens well

Aren't those magnolias that live on your street

Beneath the city's noxious heat?

Old justification sold back to your head.

It's the only thing that keeps us dead.

Well, once we were ten of many many many many many men,

But now it's just nine of good fine friends of mine.

(We're all helping each other, right?)

So I guess your father was a vapid space,

And I guess I guess your mother was a shoreless shape.

But they bore it longer than was due

Their station or their circumstance.

(Hey, wait a minute, that doesn't rhyme.)

And don't he believe like a four mind man

Yeah, he'd rather be right here where I'm standing but

Does it not occur to him that

Life on earth surrounds each spin?

And this time is this day and everyday.

And this time is the toe to toe total turning away.

Yeah, life on earth surrounds each spin.

Yeah, the big myopian buck boy spins

Like a broken door on a broken hinge.

The world is too much with us and leaning on the horn.

The world is too much with us and the world is too much.

The world is too much with us, yeah, the world is too much with us

And it's too much with us, yeah.

The world is too much.

The world is too much with us.

The world is too much with us and the world is too much.

The world is too much with us, yeah, the world is too much with us

The world is too much with us.

The world is too much.

The world is too much with us.

The world is too much with us and leaning on the horn!

Is history an empty rind?

While the Greek city states flourish

Mound builders inhabit the Ohio Valley.