The Price of Illusion 

Shadows seem to enter 
time appears unkind 
when the only words of guidance 
are coming from the blind 
so now and then you tell yourself 
the perfect world you seek awaits the perfect time 
and if music is the answer 
what is there to do 
but make yourself a legend 
to the ones who crave the blues 
but make no mistake that the whole thing seems fake 
as a rose tattoo 
Knowledge and fortune 
it's not what you think 
the price of illusion's 
the price of a drink 
 

A victory for meaning 
ovation from the crowd 
but fame and adulation 
is selling by the pound 
still you've got a cure for loneliness 
that hides the silence in between the sounds 
a thank you for the lesson 
a thank you for the pain 
a thank you for the troubled songs 
that paved your way to fame 
and if you believe the scriptures then there's nothing left
for you to lose down here 
or to gain 
knowledge and fortune 
it's not what you think 
the price of illusion's 
the price of a drink 
 

Here is your salvation 
they've handed you the key 
you put it in your closet 
for a time when you're in need 
and it sits beneath a pile of all that you've acquired 
in your greed
but with a little effort 
take a little pause 
justify existence and recognize the cause 
of your own dissatisfaction a reaction to a 
breakdown of the laws 
or human flaws 
knowledge and fortune 
it's not what you think 
the price of illusion's 
the price of a drink 
 
 

Madison Avenue Hymn

Young Jimmy Jones left his family and home 
to do the work of the lord 
a small congregation sought his mediation 
he arrived in a second hand ford 
with faith and free labor from all his good neighbors 
the small church's assets soon grew 
now he's doing God's Will from a house on a hill 
and he drives a Ferrari or two 
 

Give me money give me freedom
give me glory that I deserve 
I don't want answers 
I've got no questions 
money's power rules the world 
 

My old friend Rubin 
who preached revolution 
and taught me which people to hate 
like the fat politicians 
and people whose missions 
were turning the wheels of the state 
he laughed at the brokers and tried to provoke us 
to fulfill his socialist dreams 
now he sits in a penthouse 
and counts all the dough 
that he's gathered in various schemes 
 

Give me money give me freedom
give me glory that I deserve 
I don't want answers 
I've got no questions 
money's power rules the world 
 

Little Jack Horner sat on street corners 
the only place they'd let him play 
through bad and good weather refused to say never 
got better and better by day 
he laughed at the norm and scorned those who'd conform 
to the big record companies whims 
now I've been told his last record went gold 
it's called Madison Avenue Hymn 
 

Give me money give me freedom
give me glory that I deserve 
I don't want answers 
I've got no questions 
money's power rules the world 
 

If you think you're above it 
a creature of love 
immune to all of this greed 
and your God will protect you from sin and starvation 
and provide you with all that you need 
sooner or later you'll get the chance 
to sacrifice all the things you believe 
will you stick by your guns 
or will you take the plunge 
with the ace that you've kept up your sleeve? 

Obscured By Clouds

I had a dream of  scene on a mountaintop
where I went to find a little time
while I tried to stop the world
and I met a man full of pain and love
with scars upon his hands
and he spoke of his plans for me
in some far distant land
But that was when I was fast asleep 
and I have appointments I have to keep
so I jump from my bed and take my place in the crowd
still alone for cryin out loud
with heart and soul obscurred by clouds

I had a friend a special friend
in whom I could depend on in hard times
but my friends all disappear don't ask me why
and though the years have gone by
I still think of him 
and how I'd like to try to call him up
he would really be surprised
and I know that he lives in New York
 and I just have to pick up the phone
but there's a part of me that clicks off with the dial tone
still alone for cryin out loud
with heart and soul obscurred by clouds

It's five oclock
and my socks smell like alchohol
and I can't recall what I did
or what I said to her at all
but she'd give to me something real
something I don't believe
that I could deserve
and her words cannot pacify me now
so I'm looking for my salvation
in the pages of some old book
though I could witness a greater truth if I knew how to look
still alone for cryin out loud
with heart and soul obscured by clouds