The firmament of Tinsel Town
  Is strung with tungsten stars
  Lot's of forty watt successes
  He says where's my own shining hour
  He's the well kept secret of the underground
  He's in debt to the company store
  Because his only channelled aspiration
  Was getting back that girl he had before
  He's got stacks and stacks of words that rhyme
  Describing what it is to lose
  He's got some just for laughs
  He's got some for love
  That mainline to his blues
  Some to shed a little light on you and on me
  Some to shed a little light on the human story
  The wars of pride and property
  The rebel Irish and the promised land Jew
  Fighting behind his eyes and over seas
  Wounded in action and no ceasefire in view
  Brave reporters bring the battles home
  But tonight inside that box
  Just more bang bang ketchup color to him
  Just more Twentieth Century Fox
  All because that ghostly girl comes haunting
  Just out of reach-outside his bed
  And she kicks the covers off his sleep
  For the clumsy things he said
  She commands his head-She tries his sanity
  She demands his head-Tonight unknowingly
  Vaguely she floats and lacelike
  Blown in like a curtain on the night wind
  She's nebulous and naked
  He wonders where she's been
  He grabs at the air because there's nothing there
  Her evasiveness stings him
  With long legs-long lonely legs
  Bruised from banging into things
  One day he was standing just outside her door
  He was carrying an armload of bright balloons
  She just laughed
  She said she heard him knocking
  And she teased him for the moon
  "Is one the moon, dear clown,
  Tied to a string for me?"
  He tried but he could not get it down
  For truth or for mystery
  He tried but he could not get it down
  For love or money