Murder

Lyrics

[Verse 1] Oh, they say that he is crazy as he walks down the street To the place where the darkness makes your heart skip a beat But he's walkin' a little bit slower than all of his friends Perhaps he knows more than he pretends But it's hard to argue with a parasite fool 'Cause he uses his memory instead of his tools And the game that he's playin' it's got its own set of rules And he's gettin' away with murder [Verse 2] Well, there's bats in the bеlfry, I am proud to report Where thе clergy vacation at their Midtown resorts But they keep 'em out of sight by changin' their tune And they are dyin' of fright just a little too soon And there never is a word about those faraway lands Where another kind of hourglass has run out of sand And the ten-cent survivors, well, they've got holes in their hands And they put 'em on trial for murder [Verse 3] Well, there's no sense in arguin', it is very plain to see About the comparative worthlessness of the college degree When you pay for your smiles with your green stamp books And land jobs according to how your bottom half looks Yet along comes this man with his limerick jokes And dissertations of grandeur on the tobacco he smokes And his conscience is wrapped up in Edgar Allan Poe And other tales of murder [Verse 4] But I'm tryin' to be fair to all that is involved At least until the other half of this mystery is solved When the pedestal is moved and the balance is lost And the failures and the mistrials, they all add to the cost And they got a new rule book that always says no To the kids who want to stay up for the late late show But they keep 'em readin' comic books 'cause they never show The true color of murder [Verse 5] So let's all say a prayer for organized crime As the patron saint of the commerce of havin' a good time We'll send someone out to investigate the dirt Though the last one he came back just a little bit hurt And they found him on the beach with his head in the sand And you know he wasn't out there just to dig some clams And though the suicide note was in his own hand Ah, to me it smells like murder [Verse 6] Well, they run you through the changes 'til you run out of breath By feedin' you cigarettes and gasoline and other forms of death And then they force you into buyin' all their worthless machines That can do everything better except for cleanin' the latrines But depression ain't the worry of most of these folks They're worried about their worth as the butt of these jokes And losin' their jobs permanently as a part of the hoax And forcin' 'em to resort to murder [Verse 7] Well, Franklin and Fulton and Alexander Graham Bell Along with Einstein can all just go to hell 'Cause you can't ask the computers to feed you a meal And you can't turn on the TV set to see how you feel And the man who invented that horrible bomb Is probably as American as George Washington's mom And Uncle Sam's changed his name to Uncle Tom To avoid the rap for murder