Hasten to the moment before it's past
And lost to the less deserving.
Dress up, dress up, you must look your best
To attract the men you choose to reject.
Has there ever been anything as important as this
But the next thing?

He was standing in a the room full of important guests
Who were enduring another wonderful party
And would later run home to cast themselves
Upon the bed swearing never to go again.
The host was holding stiletto conversations leaning
On his friends phony exclamation and hyperbole.
But this is our time, our precious time
What is more important than us?
We are awake and lost in our own time
(And many said the past was one failure after another)
(And many felt there was no future).
We have today, the precious, precious gift from which
We can squeeze every pleasure -- and every depression
There is a motive but nothing more than this
An edge and around several corners in back doors
Is a means to an end.
Wherein lies the unifying theme that explains our actions?
There is but this
This, now, the moment and the mood
The quirk that drives the next desire.
The thoughts that are and have been
That thoughts that will be have been thought
There is no higher goal for us that
Brings peace at death
There is but this
This, now, the moment and the mood
The quirk that drives the next desire.
It has all been said and with so much clarity
Than we can scarcely utter.
We are on the leaning edge of the falling tower
And long to feel the wind in our face
Crashing, crashing done.           It's the denier cri
When we go, we go in style as in days
Gone by.                           So clever
Can you hear the crumble, the shifting,
The losing of it all?
Here we sit on the culture slide
Waiting to ride into obscurity.
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