Port Of Morrow

Through the rain and all the clatter

Under the Fremont bridge I saw a pigeon fly

Fly in fear from the raptor come to take its life

And as it closed in for the capture

I funneled the fear through my ancient eyes

To see in flight,

what I know are the bitter mechanics of life

Under my hat it reads "the lines are all imagined"

A fact of life I know to hide from my little girls

I know my place amongst the bugs and all the animals

And it's from these ordinary people you are longing to be free

My hotel and on the TV

A preacher on a stage like a buzzard cries

Out a warning of phony sorrow, he's trying to get a rise

The cyanide of an almond

Let him look at your hands, get the angles right

Ace of spades, port of morrow, life is death is life

I saw a photograph: Cologne in '27

And then a postcard after the bombs in '45

Must've been a world of evil clowns that let it happen

But now I recognize, dear listeners

That you were there and so was I

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah

Under my hat I know the lines are all imagined

A fact of life I must impress on my little girls

I know my place amongst the creatures in the pageant

And there are flowers in the garbage,

and a skull under your curls

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah...