The nouveaux riches have sent me a postcard
Wish you were here
Was I really that phony a mystic
I see the black and white so sharp and clear
But color seems like madness
Sometimes only the stupidest kind
I've been looking over my choices
The moon's too far so we shoot for security
This basic life is not for an acid-head like me
It's not saintly to do what I choose to
But it's closer to God than I'm used to
I don't know what this change is all about
But my application's filled out
Occupation: unknown

A black mark on my résumé
A spot burned out when I was young
The sense that I was shown how to ignore
Comes back to confront me once again
Refusing now to be so limited
An entropy of decisions given to me
But it's not easy to kick the lock off the door
A day's work to take the old pictures down
And no knowing what cracks they covered there
I hear the promise of faith and the Eastern way
But there's a fat man aboard the Enola Gay
The truth is strong and it beats like my heart
Moi, je dis vive le monde d'art
Occupation: unknown