I’ll Have a Vodka and Diet Drama

Here we are:
In the LAnd of the tall folk
The gLAmorous trend setters
Chase the dreams that make the sand on the beach

There it is:
Chic and metallic
Crate and Barrel limited edition
Help Mother Earth it does?
Receptacle for this week’s recycling
So she says

But when you asked her where it all goes…
She doesn’t know
Given to the overpaid maid to take
Into the dumpster more trash it makes…

Let us meet the ocean breeze:
Salty taste, cold, purifying
Cyclical
Let us feel you in the afternoon
And miss you in the morning
In the morning
You know that all is still
Production has not began
But in the afternoon
You go to work
And she says, “It’s too cold outside”

Let us now meet the lungs of the valley:
Late at night
Let us slip into the coroner’s office
And observe an incomplete autopsy
Check out the lungs:
Black, tarred, non-smoker
How can this be? she says
As she steps to the bar and says,
“I’ll have a vodka with diet drama”
(Please)

Later or sooner you will ask for the same
For pollution is the name of this game

And remember this:
But when you asked her where it all goes…
She doesn’t know
Given to the overpaid maid to take
Into the dumpster more trash it makes…

She’ll date you for a month or so
And then one day
She’ll call and say
“I can’t date anymore”
Why? he asks
“Because I got married…”

Years later, found dead
And the coroner said
“Such black lungs for someone so young”
A non-smoker
How can this be?
Yes, how can this be?

Next customer:
“Vodka with Diet Drama”
(Please)