The Shining Hour

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Are we still on the phone=20
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With lady Anna Clarke and her trumpet solo?
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Whose ghost sings for pay
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In the blue billiard room of the Monterey
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For room and for board
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And the back door key is a 19th century civil war sword
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Once owned by John Booth
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      A5
And he misplaced his script when he caught his leather boot

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This could be the shining hour
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Based on all this mad belief
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In money oil and angel powder
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In the new age magazine=20


There=92s a hole in the wall
Behind the photograph of Al Capone
He=92s sittin=92 down at city hall
The police they peek through here
And they watch you get dressed in the two-way mirror
But it=92s all in good spirits
And if you close eyes you can=92t help, help but to hear =91em move

This could be the shining hour
Based on all this mad belief
In the money oil and angel powder
In the new age magazine

I propose a toast
To the memory of the horse who carried King Tut and his gold
Into the sun
He collapsed last summer from a heat stroke somewhere in the east=20
village, oh=20
And it kills me to think
That I=92m no longer living
Just looking for excuses to dink
So lift up your glass
And your Ouija board =91cause I=92m fading, fading, fading fast