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Ides of Swing

Some say April is the cruelest

And though I can be quite morose

The stiff who penned it on a fool's list

Of those who are chronically verboseWhen your head starts craning back

And your breath comes short and fast

The music of the spheres start to bounce and sing

That's when you know you're swingingWhen your eyes roll back into your head

And the sap from the trees on your fingers have bled

Swooning to the charms of Mephisto's waltz

That's when you know you've got some schmaltzWhen you've got the evil eye and unconsciously growl

Your hands start shaking and you crouch and prowl

These terrifying symptoms are a sure fire sign

That you're pimping, baby and you're feeling fineWhen you make love to whomever you please

And a bullet to the head feels like a soft warm breeze

Red suit, green suit, they're all there scheming

That's when you know you're dreaming

Yes, you're dreaming, you are dreaming

I hope you are dreaming

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