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All nerve endings shut down.

Stiff lipped at the countdown.

All systems are go,

All systems are gough,

All systems are ghosts.



In a can,

In a cupboard,

In a submarine,

There's nothing left inside,

In a basket at the bottom of the guillotine

Is where the sailor cried.

He never said a word

To the jury of the press

And when the ax-blade bit his neck,

"Set me free" is all he said.



In a pixel,

In a portrait,

In a T.V. screen

There's nothing left to hide.

Stitched each instant by the firing electron beam

Let the camera man decide.

He never said a word

To the jury of the press

When the on-air light turned red,

"Cut Away" is all he said.



When he opened it up,

He dropped his coffee cup,

And when the cup hit the ground

The whole damn house came stumbling down.



Good by my memory.

From this point on I'm unsettling.



In Brooklyn we stay home.



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