The Lookout

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Perched upon a gloved arm,
I'll admit I was proud,
Looking down on my swarm,
All so quick to conform,
Falling over themselves to be charming and loud.

And meanwhile back at the lodge,
The fox fixed a drink while the hunters were out chasing bread crumbs.
And he said,
Try to understand, I'm not your friend
So don't offer your hand or your damned condescending advice,
And shut off the lights when you're done.

And the other one brushed off his armband and said,
You and I we've been lying face down for so long
I can hardly distinguish the dirt from our skin.
The world's caving in
And to think that I looked out for you for all of these years
Without ever expressing my doubt...

But now who's gonna lookout for the lookout
When a blast from the ground
Pokes my nose through the cloudline
As the hunting horns sound.
Spiralling down on one wing,
I dizzily note what I see,
But when blinded by terminal speed,
Who's gonna lookout for me
Who's gonna lookout for me


(David Fernandes - lead guitar
Jon Greenlee - drums, bass, lead guitar)

Copyright 1993 Zach London

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