© 1986 Neal Gladstone

 

He was seeking a new direction

For his colored slide collection

Took a trans-Atlantic flight

For 7 days and 7 nights

Well you know the sign was hidden

Saying pictures are forbidden

So he focussed in his Nikon

On a sacred ancient icon

When a copper from the crowd

Shouted, "Pictures aren't allowed!"

As they clamped a rusty shackle on his limb

Everybody knows it but him

 

Her hair had barely finished drying

When her Afghan started crying

So she took him for a walk

Saw a neighbor, stopped to talk

Well her Afghan begged his pardon

In Miss Bentley's tulip garden

And Miss Bentley came out screaming

With her purple Mohawk gleaming

She was up for altercation

And demanded explanation

Of how such an outrage ever could occur

Everybody knows it but her

 

Now you can picket General Motors

Join the League of Women Voters

Have some world-wide adventures

Buy subordinate debentures

Be a star of motion pictures,

Marry rich and marry richer

But somewhere you always know it

Though you try hard not to show it

That you're shackled by a chain

To monotony and pain

And there's not a bloody thing that you can do

Everybody knows it but you

 

Well I can play in bars forever

Bleach my hair and dress in leather

Play a custom Telecaster

Use both hands to play it faster

Drive a Porche and wear and earring

Sing the blues and lose my hearing

See a doctor for depression

Get arrested for posession

But my dream to be a famous cock

Is nothing but a shameless crock

Of self-indulgent grandiosity

Everybody knows it but me!