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Yankees

from Imaginary Numbers by Man Years

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lyrics

Monsters of the midday
claim they need an Indian chief
or a set of beaver’s teeth.

Crowds are my favorite place to sing.
Business is to never seem silly.

We do need an Indian chief.

I missed the Great Awakening
and it’s not that the Spirit ain’t in me.
It may have something to do with money
or magic or jobs or my free time or loving this racket.

Hollywood went.

When my head is on a foul pole
I’ll suddenly be interested in TV, so go Yankees!

Fleetwood stole alone.
Every page is gone.
Spring is not a place I know.

Yankees always win.
Paint all the seats the color of dumb men.
All that we love could fill a dustbin.

credits

from Imaginary Numbers, released January 31, 2011

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