This is just pretending. Where’s the usher stamping the back of my hand-held
supply rod? Where do you suppose it’s gravy day? The real approach the make-up
guys for something bigger in the next room. Somebody waiting on the surrogates?
This guy’s just another loudspeaker in a tie and jumper cables without a voice
to his name. Anybody see why they nailed the brush with fame when clocks are
striking wives in real estate? If this is charm you can paint by numbers on the
fingers of one Jose Jimenez. A lotta dough gets framed for mischief hanging
’round the pole vault. What you’d call a ticker taping wrinkles before the air raid
dances with the NASDQ. The real downtown approach an off ramp Bauhaus
nine to five they play a little gin goes home the back way takes you to the
penthouse. Zoomer crashed his check at the gargoyle opening. Couldn’t
hang his monkey shine.
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