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Thanksgiving Day Parade

アーティスト：Dan Bern  アルバム：New American Language 

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Everybody was ecstatic 'Bout the light show on the farm And everyone got crazy And nobody got harmed And the five televisions Huge upon the stage Had come to pay their union dues And make a living wage And the bathroom was the clubhouse Where the colors all got made And plans were cast in feathers For the Thanksgiving Day Parade And the DJ spins his records From here out to the sun And he flings them through a big hole In the ozone one by one And somewhere beyond Mercury The wax begins to melt And we touched a perfect stranger And we loved the way it felt And we all hung together In our crew cuts and our braids Floating down Broadway Above the Thanksgiving Day Parade And you and I were discussing Natalie As you poised to thrust above her And I told you how I admire her And will always need to love her And I told you how I lost My best friend Mr. Neill And we slowly started dancing And began slowly to heal And then we all held hands And no one was afraid On our way to sell our sculptures At the Thanksgiving Day Parade And Michelangelo finally came down After 4 years on the ceiling He said he'd lost his funding And the paint had started peeling And he told us that his patron His Holiness, the Pope Was demanding productivity With which our friend just couldn't cope And he rode off on his skateboard With his brushes and his blade Muttering something 'bout some food And the Thanksgiving Day Parade And we were born in one millennium And will die in the next Are slightly underappreciated And slightly oversexed And as the seconds and the minutes Start to vanish one by one I'm watching more cartoons As I get my toenails done And we went downtown to deliver Turkeys to people with AIDS And then we headed uptown To the Thanksgiving Day Parade And the music keeps on grinding And the electrophonic crunch And my father's hair is thinning And my mom ate some for lunch And you, you were my babysitter And you let me break my tooth And we sit here tied together In a bar in the back booth And the band is in an uproar Only the drum machine's been paid And we'll have to bring our own tunes To the Thanksgiving Day Parade Australians are the coolest People in the world Let's all go down under With strings of colored pearls



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