The drum wakes up. He'll have a real black eye this time
Hungover dream. He hung around too long last night
The drum gets up. How will he feel about this one?
The dream throws up (he didn't feel too good this time)
He's got it all. He's got it figured out
Dream in the hall back in the hospital
I'm not concerned. He'll get it straight this time
And if he doesn't, fuck it
The gun goes off. He's always off about something
The drum just nods: the drum ain't listening at all
The drum gets drunk, the drum reads James Joyce in the drunk
The dream falls down. The drum's face breaks the dreams fall.
He don't have shit. He's learned to live whit it
The drum's in debt – you owe me don't forget
That $20, interest and moral support – and if you don't I swear
(this is our lifetime I am his creator)
(a snowman slowly pulled apart by separate poles of gravity)
The drum goes forth. He's got his flag unfurled or something
The drum won't stop the drum's a menace to the public
Hold your drum high (the drum is stoned again)
Don't wake him up he'll just start talking.
The drum is dead {the dream is dead)
Long live the drum (long live the drum)
And I am his creator
