Grounded

Doctors leaving for the holiday season 

Got crystal ice picks no gift for the gab 

And in the parking lots 

Is the sedan he bought 

He never complains when it's hot 



He fowled a swollen daughter in a sauna 

Playing contract bridge 

There soaking up the fauna doing blotters 

I don't know which, which, which 

Boys are dying on the streets 



 

I know the medical world could knock you out 

Sell the coins that you jayed last Thursday 

Dine by candlelight and hold your savings tight 

You'll never know when the bridge falls apart 

Hespoke of latent causes, sterile gauze's and 

The bedside morale 

He trapes around the table talking sentences so incomplete 

Boys are dying on these streets