'Too Many Poets'

Key to authors' pseudonyms

Splattered on a Times Square poster
Are signs my life's a roller-coaster
Burnt out inside a broken toaster
Like a piece of marinated roaster

Tangled in your menstrual cycle
Must find escape: my motorcycle
At high speeds on my two-wheeler
To track down my former drug dealer

Or maybe leaving on a jet plane
Cause all that remains is nasty pain
Grab my coat, and grab my hat
Most certainly have had enough of that

Where's the fun, the joy, the mirth?
Take a rocket ship away from earth
Leave this planet, no turning back
Hurry! Hurry! Don't bother to pack

Procol Harum concerts in 2001: index page

Manchester: Palers' Convention

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Index of Faux-lyrics for 'Too Many Poets'