My waiter is a Brando affecting Nicholson's smile
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I feel a sort of compassion but choking down my dinner was a trial
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The sixty-five year old poet, he's still finding his voice
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I read his old yellow clipping calling him the poor man's shithouse Joyce
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The impossible dream, yes you will find out
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His face was a jackal it seemed to her in the dim
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She clutched her precious objects that held no meaning for him
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She stuffed her screeching child into a stroller
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It's throwing cheap plastic toys in its wake
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Transfixed and horrified he watched it snack on some kind of albino cake
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The impossible dream, yes you will find out
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Start at the top and live like you're always willing to fall
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But you know it makes no difference to me
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This year you'll reinvent yourself and grow
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Comfortably soft you'll jump over the barbed wire
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And get your giblets torn off
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Slow motion in a crashin' car
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Her halo formed in broken glass
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Yellow police tape and a blonde wig
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I guess you went too fast
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The impossible dream, yes you will find out
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-----------------
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Impossible Dream
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| Cherry Poppin' Daddies |
