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Blowing Off Steam - text

Where's the tattooed muscle men
with furled brows a-pullin'?
Where's the buxom fashion queen
with thin-aired curls a-curlin'?
Where's the angry nomad minstrel
growlin' out a lullaby?
Where's the edgy circus folk?
Or have they said goodbye?

Where's the soiled and rusty builders
welding iron sculptures?
Where's the clockwork fellow-beaters
circled in like vultures?
Where's the darkened cabaret
filled with new nostalgics?
Where has everything I loved gone?
Oh, the loss is tragic!

All alone in a crowd
With strangers who all know me
And I try to be friends
But there's no one here who chose me
Should I run?
Should I hide?
Should I change my life completely?
Should I hold me inside?
Or keep my anger hid discreetly?

Where's the crazy fire folk
spinning warmth a-blazin'?
Where's the muscled aerialist
in the sky amazing?
Where's the dreadlocked cowboy
head-to-toe in ancient leather?
Where's the pretty painted ladies
behind their fans of feathers?

All alone in a crowd
With strangers who all know me
And I try to be friends
But there's no one here who chose me
Should I run?
Should I hide?
Should I change my life completely?
Should I hold me inside?
Or keep my anger hid discreetly?

Where's the slender flapper girls
in silken gowns and pearls?
Where's the threadbare waltzers
paintin' the floors in curls?
Where's my life-confirming friends
or did I ever have them?
Where's the brazen, angry artists?
Tell me what replaced them!

All alone in a crowd
With strangers who all know me
And I try to be friends
But there's no one here who chose me
Should I run?
Should I hide?
Should I change my life completely?
Should I hold me inside?
Or keep my anger hid discreetly?

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The Circus At The End Of The World

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