Lyrics

Song of the Bricoleur

Hey look, it’s 4 in the morning , the band’s improvising a tune
Down on the floor we’re still dancin’, spinnin’ around the room.
The choir singin’ Hallelujah, Picasso detunes a guitar,
Robespierre says we’re not there yet, but maybe we’ve gone too far
Our finery’s worn and faded, the fabric is torn and frayed
The tinker’s trying to patch it up with duct tape and a blade
The gypsy says don’t bother, son, can’t you see this ol’ party’s near done
What’s on the way no one can say, ready or not here it comes…

Father Ryan complains to his therapist: What can the Kingdom be worth,
The rent in heaven’s through the roof, angels are falling to earth?
Faith was our foundation, unquestioned and sincere ,
But ever since Fred pronounced God dead, well it’s been kinda shaky ‘round here.
We gather the family for supper, we bow our heads to pray,
Oh Father, please forgive us, for we have lost our way
Grandpa can’t remember, Daddy’s on the phone
Mama she tried, now she just cries, Children you’re on your own

Me, I’m under the table feeding my appetites
Making my way thru the buffet, never satisfied,
The chef appears in the doorway, everyone turns to the sound,
“We’re all out of meat and potatoes, folks, But it’s Crème Brule all around…”

Columbus, he sits in the corner, whispering to the clown
My maps are all dissolving, the compass, spinning ‘round,
The clown says Not to worry, there’s nothing we need to know,
There’s a New World on the horizon, Chris, we’ll make it up as we go,
There’s a new world on the horizon, we’ll make it up as we go,
We’ll make it up as we go.
We’ll make it up as we go.

© P. Rosenberg