The Last Dictator 1

The Last Dictator to the station crept

In tattered clothes he lay down and wept

Shook his fists at all the world and hissed

'Is this it, is this it?

My farewell delegation

These few trees

This station that is no station

That is left, that is mine

I could have saved you all

You gave me so little time'

Well the Angels who'd hung around

And dreamed their dreams

For eternity they'd schemed their schemes

Awoke and said 'Dick, we understand you to the letter

But you could have it like it was before, only better'

'Yes, I'd like that - I'd try again

But will you make them bow and honor my name?'

'Oh yes, by comparison the last time will seem rather tame

We'll set you up in the desert

In a discotheque called Parody, that's French for paradise

Like an immovable spot, rest now you've had a rough trot'

The Last Dictator woke from where he'd been

In a mood that was mean, he related the dream

'I'm in a very bad mood; I had a very bad dream

What do you think these things mean?'

'I dreamed of an Ice Machine

In the dream I dragged the machine

To the remotest ends of the world

From one hot spot to the next

The spots being populated entirely by brown skinned babies

Who while seemingly very young were in fact very old

These beautiful and innocent children

With their knowing eyes and their wild and neurotic dances

DID NOT WANT MY ICE MACHINE'

'Yes, yes' said the Angels

'And were you displeased?'

'I was - they'd best beware, they'd best take care'

Well the Angels who'd hung around and dreamed their dreams

For eternity they'd schemed their schemes

Clapped and said, 'Dick

You are the one - you are'

'Yes I am'

'Yes you are'