Parliament

My trumpets are down

The wind callously composed

The guitar is gone

and the rest of the band transposed

But i stick to single notes

And things i understand

i'm still a stranger in this land

So i put on some Parliament

And i'm walking my soul

For another block

Picking arguments

With the bills on the wall

while the beat goes on

My conductor is deaf

And the melody has been mislaid

The theatre is locked up

And the last bar has been played

I rush through an empty alley

With the wind playing behind

The revolutionary kind.

My drums lost their beat

And the singers have aching throats

Stamping their feet

Quite incorruptible

But do i hear the trumpets rise

And pages being turned?

Maybe that's why i'm this concerned