Modern Scrape from Modern Scrape by David Clemmer

All fell quiet, the highest bidder
said, 'The god that made you was a kidder.'
And in response, the heavy hitters
said, 'I don't need no babysitter.'
Grabbed a beverage by the counter.
Had the sense of being watched.
Why say anything that matters
when all is forgot?

Tell me, is there something better in all the modern scrape?
Or are we all in this together, abreast, aghast, agape?
Will I be like this forever, am I soft and given shape?
Or am I just some motherfucker, black-and-white, and caught on tape?
Well, I never.

If I may please direct your attention
to the pantheon of free prevention.
Do you hear the staunch cries of retention
of a smiling man's right to ascension?
Heard it on the radio.
Turned it off, got on the horn.
Though slouched in simpatico,
there's someone else who's being born.

And I read it in a letter, yeah, some Californian jape,
that I should go find something better, that I should thrash open the drapes.
Will I be like this forever, with this sweat upon my nape,
or am I just a cavalcader, dragging coattails and a cape?
Well, I never.

I walked. (watched)
I gave.
March on.
Behave.
Do you walk? (watch)
Do you save?
March on, good soldier.
Behave.

Be it steel or be it leather, I will tender my escape.
Though we're all in this together, padding o'er the modern scrape.
Will I be like this forever, am I soft and given shape?
Or am I just some motherfucker, black-and-white and caught on tape?
Well, I never.

• Rock
• indie rock
• singer-songwriter
• Portland