Everything was fine
when all the girls were boys
and singing was the usual thing to do
Nobody was sad but the kids
with the clumsy eyes

We burned and we looted
and frightened ourselves
before we learned mothers
could haunt us with words
Spilt milk and childishness
made scratches & cuts
on the cheap polished charm
of the clumsy-eyed rats

So we stole magazines
and some bikes for a ride
those dazzling devices
for Superboy’s bride
We shot a few
We stoned a few
and someday survived
to crouch back in corners
mind in mind’s eye

Well I can’t bring back
I can’t think back
It’s fading again
The tin boys & young girls
all melted away…

John Cale

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