The firmament of Tinsel Town Is strung with tungsten stars Lot's of forty watt successes He says where's my own shining hour He's the well kept secret of the underground He's in debt to the company store Because his only channelled aspiration Was getting back that girl he had before He's got stacks and stacks of words that rhyme Describing what it is to lose He's got some just for laughs He's got some for love That mainline to his blues Some to shed a little light on you and on me Some to shed a little light on the human story The wars of pride and property The rebel Irish and the promised land Jew Fighting behind his eyes and over seas Wounded in action and no ceasefire in view Brave reporters bring the battles home But tonight inside that box Just more bang bang ketchup color to him Just more Twentieth Century Fox All because that ghostly girl comes haunting Just out of reach-outside his bed And she kicks the covers off his sleep For the clumsy things he said She commands his head-She tries his sanity She demands his head-Tonight unknowingly Vaguely she floats and lacelike Blown in like a curtain on the night wind She's nebulous and naked He wonders where she's been He grabs at the air because there's nothing there Her evasiveness stings him With long legs-long lonely legs Bruised from banging into things One day he was standing just outside her door He was carrying an armload of bright balloons She just laughed She said she heard him knocking And she teased him for the moon "Is one the moon, dear clown, Tied to a string for me?" He tried but he could not get it down For truth or for mystery He tried but he could not get it down For love or money