Something in a brown suit came into the parlour
today,
But I forgave him for what he had to say to me
because he was, he was a smart man,
He was a smart man,
Something in a brown suit came into the parlour
today,
A long-faced skeleton stretched on a negative,
standing on the stairwell,
Looking down into the soul like a laser beam,
Gazing at the silhouette-he must have been a smart
man,
Something's keeping me up in the small hours,
Turning underneath the sheets, a thing to kill
serenity,
A void soul vacuuming the air with his rumouring ,
And ulcers follow on his trail, must have been a
smart man.
And if you're scribbling notes I'll run away,
These cold riddles I never solve anyway,
I'm in a mirror-maze, give me some empathy,
Chopping up garlic, have another lemonade,
Here am a a-lying on the run from a man in a caramel
cloak,
Long-dead on the stair of an Anglo monastery,
Long stretched head on a negative looking at me,
Must have been a smart man took that photograph to
terrorize the innocents,
Now he's laughing to the bank, he must have been a
smart man.
Some late soul through the wires like a message from
an alien planet,
Come a-humming some melody, chilling all to the
core,
But third degree separation never made a rumour law,
Telling me your friend saw a saucer in Arkansas,
Must have been a smart man,
Sleep never comes with attendants always with the
enemy,
A threnody of demons from the Amazon,
Umbanda despacho, I say a prayer and throw a bone
To pitbulls running down the avenues of Avalon,
Though faith's shallow, the duration of a cigarette,
Hanging from the lips of a prisoner on a bayonet,
One for the battle and another for the epithet,
Three for the hands on the strings of the
marionette,
To whom do I owe this news, must have been a smart
man.
And if you're scribbling notes I'll run away,
These cold riddles I never solve anyway,
I'm in a mirror-maze, give me some empathy,
Chopping up garlic, have another lemonade,
Run along children of the sun, you are free from
considerations
Of the kind I've been singing of,
Bringing up the bones and the shades of the Romanovs
Live and unburied in the garden of the innocent,
Lying awake because a man wrote an article,
Hungry he maybe was, he must have been a smart man.
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