The Button Factory
I got ambitious tonight and wrote this. It is terrible, but I am posting it here because I am not on my computer and I may come back to it. Everything in [] is from Casablanca, and would serve as samples i suppose.
The Button Factory
[In America they'd bring only a penny, and, huh, I guess that's about all they're worth.]
Circa 1942, I took the train down to Duvane Street.
Five cents for the train.
Placing buttons on a card.
Working for pruned fingers and less than a dime
Saving my money I always walk the way home.
It is simpler this way.
The conductor always leaves me feeling ashamed.
There is just no reason to ride.
I open up the cabinet and look inside
I realize the liquor didn’t age
I was happier in this day in age.
Drinks were taller and world seemed a lot smaller.
Day 65, and I am still putting buttons on these cards.
The work is hard but dinner is always promised at 5:30.
My grandfather gives me a nickel every payday
Testing me with only 5 minutes to make the matinee.
I escape the screaming and beating.
I escape to a fantasy world.
[Don't you sometimes wonder if it's worth all this? I mean what you're fighting for.]
[You might as well question why we breathe. If we stop breathing, we'll die.
If we stop fighting our enemies, the world will die.]
[Well, what of it? It'll be out of its misery.]
I open up the cabinet and look inside
I realize liquor doesn’t age
I was happier in this day in age
Drinks were taller and the world seemed a lot smaller.
The family is always all there.
The stores are all closed on Sundays.
Sitting around the table we talk about the good old days.
Circa 1942, these were the good old days.
Yes these are the good old days.
The music never died.
I thank my parents for keeping me alive.
The buttons made me learn to try.
Yes these are the good old days.
I climb inside the cabinet
I drink what is inside.
I see the world as taller and me as much smaller.
I realize that unlike the liquor I am forced to age.
[Who are you really, and what were you before? What did you do and what did you think, huh?]
there must be changes, but I like it.
The Button Factory
[In America they'd bring only a penny, and, huh, I guess that's about all they're worth.]
Circa 1942, I took the train down to Duvane Street.
Five cents for the train.
Placing buttons on a card.
Working for pruned fingers and less than a dime
Saving my money I always walk the way home.
It is simpler this way.
The conductor always leaves me feeling ashamed.
There is just no reason to ride.
I open up the cabinet and look inside
I realize the liquor didn’t age
I was happier in this day in age.
Drinks were taller and world seemed a lot smaller.
Day 65, and I am still putting buttons on these cards.
The work is hard but dinner is always promised at 5:30.
My grandfather gives me a nickel every payday
Testing me with only 5 minutes to make the matinee.
I escape the screaming and beating.
I escape to a fantasy world.
[Don't you sometimes wonder if it's worth all this? I mean what you're fighting for.]
[You might as well question why we breathe. If we stop breathing, we'll die.
If we stop fighting our enemies, the world will die.]
[Well, what of it? It'll be out of its misery.]
I open up the cabinet and look inside
I realize liquor doesn’t age
I was happier in this day in age
Drinks were taller and the world seemed a lot smaller.
The family is always all there.
The stores are all closed on Sundays.
Sitting around the table we talk about the good old days.
Circa 1942, these were the good old days.
Yes these are the good old days.
The music never died.
I thank my parents for keeping me alive.
The buttons made me learn to try.
Yes these are the good old days.
I climb inside the cabinet
I drink what is inside.
I see the world as taller and me as much smaller.
I realize that unlike the liquor I am forced to age.
[Who are you really, and what were you before? What did you do and what did you think, huh?]
there must be changes, but I like it.