Failing Newspapers in the Sky

Failing newspapers in the sky
Drifting through the dead wood of God's forests,
Calculating the distance and time to Mars,
Try to keep alive by dreaming.
If dreaming could...
If dreaming could...

Newspapers are dead beyond our retrieve.
The circle comes back and we are so lost,
Caught in the cycle of what to believe

The writer mundane has taken his leave,
To weather the fight of this deadly frost.
Newspapers are dead beyond our retrieve.

The nightly edition's gone to relieve
The coffee ghosts from the next life cross'd
Caught in the cycle of what to believe.

Editors! Move fast! Forget where to grieve!
Look past the graveyard of newspapers toss'd.
Newspapers are dead beyond our retrieve.

We've hit the end at a new New Year's Eve.
We'll jump ship for it, whatever the cost,
Caught in the cycle of what to believe.

The News tells us for what we must bereave,
But ages too fast and then becomes lost.
Newspapers are dead beyond our retrieve
Caught in the cycle of what to believe.

Accountability is nothing now,
Nor is putting order to God's mess -
Thats janitorial work in spades;
We've no time for it and no need.
We'll take our prophet Palin and start paving over roads
That George Washington laid out for the soldiers.
No more common ground
If dreaming could...
No more common ground
Between people of the nation.
We are not islands but we live on them alone,
And we burn our bridges faster than we know -
Ask a newspaperman sometime.
Fact check the checkers board when you think you're playing chess.
No one else will do it for you, certainly not today.
The printing press has corroded and rotted
Into fibreglass tubing underground
Where the sewers connect with the serpent's layer,
A dragon of ancient renoun.
George Washington once slayed it - this American Dragon,
Though history calls it the British -
I assure you though, none but a dragon could
Tax without representation
Or cause men to waste their tea.
Washington, he cut off its head
And it retreated to its cave.
From its blood sprung the American dream.
Then washington built those roads to democracy
And never gave the dragon a second thought.
But the dragon lived and grew back its head,
He petitioned with the heavenly monsters
And earned back his license
To wreck the dream we've dreamed, the dream of his blood.
He stirs in his sleep,
f dreaming could...

07/09