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Текст песни "Perfect Sense, Part I" |
 The monkey sat on a pile of stones
And he stared at the broken bone in his hand
The strains of a Viennese quartet
Rang out across the land
And the monkey looked up at the stars
And he thought to himself
Memory is a stranger
History is for fools
And he cleaned his hands
In a pool of holy writing
Turned his back on the garden
And set out for the nearest town
Hold on, hold on soldier
When you add it all up
The tears and the marrow bone
There's an ounce of gold
And an ounce of pride in each legend
And the Germans kill the Jews
And the Jews kill the Arabs
And the Arabs kill the hostages
And that is the news
And is it any wonder
That the monkey's confused
He said Mama Mama
The President's a fool
Why do I have to keep reading
These technical manuals
And the joint chiefs of staff
And the brokers on Wall Street said
Don't make us laugh
You're a smart kid
Time is linear
Memory's a stranger
History's for fools
Man is a tool in the hands
Of the great God Almighty
And they gave him command
Of a nuclear submarine
Sent him back in search of
The Garden of Eden
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