Congratulations (Live at the Bataclan)

Dead in the water, it's not a paid vacation

The sons and daughters of city officials attend demonstrations

It's hardly a sink or swim when all is well if the ticket sells

Out with a whimper, it's not a blaze of glory

You look down from your temple as people endeavor to make it a story

And chisel a marble word, but all is lost if it's never heard

But I've got someone to make reports that tell me how my money's spent

To book my stays and draw my blinds so I can't tell what's really there

And all I need's a great big congratulations

I'll keep your dreams, you pay attention for mе

As strange as it seems, I'd rather dissolve than havе you ignore me

The ground may be moving fast but I tied my boots to a broken mast

The difference is clear, you throw it in your cauldron

Rust and veneer, dusk and dawn, Steinways and Baldwins

You start with a simple stock of all the waste and salt to taste

But damn my luck and damn these friends that keep on combing back their smiles

I save my grace with half-assed guilt and lay down the quilt upon the lawn

Spread my arms and soak up congratulations

Thank you