A febrile shocking violent smack

And the children are hoping for a heart attack

Tonight the windows are watching

The streets all conspire and the lamppost can't stop crying



If I could fly high above the world

Would I see a bunch of living dots spell the word stupidity?

Or would I see hungry lover homicides, loving brother suicides

And olly olly oxenfrees who pick a side and hide?



The world is scratching at my door

My morning paper's got the scores

The human interest stories

And the obituary



Cockroach naps and rattling traps

How many devils can you fit upon a match head?

Caringosity killed the Kerouac cat

Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction



In my alley around the corner there's a wino with feathered shoulders

And a spirit giving head for crack and he'll never want it back

There's a little kid and his family eating crackers like thanksgiving

And a pack of wild desperados scornful of living



The world is scratching at my door

My morning paper has the scores

The human interest stories

And the obituary



Cradle for a cat, Wolfe looks back

How many angels can you fit upon a match?

I want to know why Hemingway cracked

Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction



Life is the crummiest book I ever read

There isn't a hook

Just a lot of cheap shots, pictures to shock

And characters an amateur would never dream up



Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction