Strike 1

He wasn't the fly on the wall at the party; he was a dapper and hungry wasp on the wall Every age has a certain moral tone Uh, and no matter how you try to live your life You are going to be affected by that moral tone You don't have any choice We are heading towards the total eclipse of all values Now don't get me wrong, as a writer, I'm perfectly delighted for things to remain the way They are I mean The human comedy has never been richer And what do you do now to try to prove your spiritual worthiness today You try to become a member of The museum board It's the art museum that sort of Certifies your spiritual worthiness today What is the new religion for educated and well to do people You, you wasp charity ballers sitting on your mounds of inherited money up in that co-op On the glassy cities, and you German-Jewish financiers who do the same You better diffusilate yourself from the shtetl hoard You, you wasp charity ballers sitting on your mounds of inherited money up in that co-op On the glassy cities, and you German-Jewish financiers who do the same You better diffusilate yourself from the shtetl hoard He appears to be some throwback, perhaps to more mannerly days In fact, he uses words like weapons People looked at me with a sort of hostility they couldn't do anything about Why I found this enjoyable I can't tell you I think there's a real purpose to formality, to telling others how you expect to be treated One thing I would hate to be is conspicuous, but I do want to be noticed Oh mortality, a heart attack too That deep fear lodged in the bosom of nearly every man in the room The old arteries were clogging up And is that the way it would look Lying on the floor of some public place with a blue circle around your mouth And cloudy eyes that are half open and one hundred percent dead I think I will enjoy every moment a little bit more You know if you count the Well I wouldn't ask you to do this because you're indestructible at heart But if you count how many days you think you have left It's rather grimly small that number You know, you tend to say thousands, well Thousands It's quite humbling to know that Despite all of your talents and aspirations, and all of the dreams that you think you have You're made of clay As the stoic epic youths used to say, you're nothing but a piece of crockery and a quart Of blood And it gives a whole other meaning to the word soul I think your soul is your relationships with other people And that's the part of you that doesn't die And you start to treasure those things more That was my experience anyway The story will continue after this