Dept. Store

The message read 'If the fire is out, what do we do with the ashes?' A worn-out phrase in a room that's full of every stupid passage I tried to think of a word I've said that's ever been worth saying Instead I get a parking lot where everyone's parading Will she be there when I march in? Will she be there when I march in? I drunken star on the avenue that can't recall the faces A telephone directory with nothing on the pages The taste is gone The fear is gone The others leave today Her breathe is gone Her face is gone The miscellaneous will fade away Call came in in the afternoon, she had gone to Memphis Like a story that will end too soon and leaves you dumb and senseless I try to think of a word she said that's ever been worth hearing Instead I get a dept store with nothing there worth stealing The taste is gone The fear is gone The others leave today Her breathe is gone Her face is gone The miscellaneous will fade away