Solitary Missions

The people have spoken The turd has been flushed Only a small trace lingers You could count the important Messages here On Mickey Mouse’s fingers We say what we want We want what we say And every last Joe must listen Last count, I’d say There are far, far too many Solitary missions Don’t I know you From Acapulco? Didn’t you see me in training? Couples like us Were always doomed And the sky was always raining We raced on a beach And drank from a husk Our hair in the wet waves glistened The turtles then screamed, “We’ve got you fooled; You’re on solitary missions” The world’s on fire -- No wait, that’s the stove In some Russian apartment Ever since the Red Army came, We been shoved into compartments Some took this And some took that And the rest was left for the wishing So I donned a brown uniform And gold-starred hat For one more solitary mission Now the blankets of the young Are all dried and hung Too bad they ain’t never been slept in All hungry for bread And left for dead In starvation and depression That kind of romance Can be plagiarised Which I've done, by my own admission Just don’t you dare look In the baby’s eyes On your solitary mission The preacher man Married a Republican Yet their babes were all Progressives Who attacked and killed them In rage one night On their road to being elected It all comes out In the wash, they say Crime knows no abolition Still, history will sing So sweet and so pure Of their solitary missions So the shows are closed The city’s been razed But you wouldn’t know from the traffic They often wake up In a post-coital haze With headaches that are terrific But this is our evening And this is our midnight And this is our red velvet curtain Those work zones and orange construction cones? They’re the emblems of solitary missions