Breakfast in a ruin

You servant of god
your threat is your throne
you hand me your prayers
and I took'em home
put them in the ice-box
and froze them in cubes
showed them to my love
but she didn't look up

              nothing doing
              nothing doing
              breakfast in a ruin

you party-line man
you sing a strange tune
you hand me your books
and then very soon
I put them in water
and it turned into blood
my love said it taught her
to live with no crutch

              refr.

You masters and slaves
you heroes and whores
five minutes to twelve
no time anymore
my love wrote a sad song
and she threw it in the sea
and it cannot be long
'fore it's washed home to me

           refr.


1975. Kyoto.