32 Pianos
Thity-two pianos in a row by the door /
piano players strangled by the strings on the floor.
Key-boards teared asunder filling cracks in the wall /
essential parts of humanoids left after the ball.
Empty glasses broken reflecting the light /
of a hurricane lamp in the night.
Smirk a bit, smirk a bit /
even if you don't grasp half of it.
Twenty-seven boxers havin' fights in the street /
dustmen working late wipe out the fresh knocked-out meat.
I am not so sure if I would like there to stay /
but please, please let me play.
Lots of junk together make a heap of them stones/
get yourself together now by shakin' your bones /
puppets cut in half now making quite a noise.
The sun is setting, now you have to lower your voice.
See you sitting listening jugling your phones on your ears.
Smirk a bit, smirk a bit /
even if you don't grasp half of it.
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