Morningstar angel - the sun at midnight
Gone all these years now he still tells me
"Timing is all" this is another dark time
The more things change, the more
they stand repeated and uncorrected.
He's a surgeon with a paintbrush, who
delivered my heart with every possible
stroke on canvas and then hung it out
to dry on metallic space age silk
so I could wear it on my sleeve.
I can show you how to hold a pen
like a dagger with a sharp point
toward a kinder, gentler Fortune 500
Mr. Jones made another killing today
Life goes and the show must go on.
Tradition continues I hear, in Pittsburgh
Alienation hot and cold in the here and now
where I stand on some ancient soapbox
embracing my long lost friend validation.