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Clockwork Monkey
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Man O' Beige
Here's another man o' beige
Necktied in a bow
Stately secrets in a briefcase
He makes the pigeons move
Watch the pigeons go
They fan out like a feathery sea
Parted by The Mose
The Man O' Beige commeth
From whence the subway train
His staff stacked in a little book
Of beseeches to be made
Hear the man beseeching
His tongue runs like a leathery creek
O'er the jaded stones
But I was born of fire, man
Fire, o Man O' Beige
There were no silky platitudes
To draw me from the flames
I sit in black and orange now
Watching clocks consume the days
Consuming all these days o' beige
Briefly now the Man O' Beige
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Cases every word
You speak to him - he only hears
The ones that he has heard
Watch that fallow brow
His hair is not attached to him
It aches for somewhere else
Here's another Man O' Beige
Folded like a doll
So neat into the chair arranged
And fastened with a bow
I can taste the fluro's flicker
They rustle like a twitching worm
Stranded in the street
But I was born of fire, man
Fire, o Man O' Beige
There were no silky platitudes
To draw me from the flames
I sit in black and orange now
Watching clocks consume the days
Consuming all these days o' beige
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