I’ve got nothing.
My mind is a blank
My eyes don’t comprehend
But the chair is divine

Can you take me to st louis ?
Where the arch gleams on a cold, cold night
and the cocktails warm the hands

You got to bide some time
To buy the proverbial  store
213 rocks thrown at the glass windows
But the foundation still stands strong

The chair is a sinking comfort
No thought can penetrate
Flashes of flashes whiz by
The foot rest is tired

I rise off the chair
Tired,  but hopeful
Im off to see the wizard