by Jeffrey Murrell


The sun won't shine
At 5 a.m.
'Cause of the bi-partisan attempt
To find out who I am.

An unholy man may become a
Holy ghost,
But change
Is just the beauty of it all!

I did some soul searching,
But I couldn't find one.
(I thought I'd dig up a little history.)
And I've sent out so many pleas.
But who can help me?
Who can help me?

Though the lights were off
And no one was home,
There was still some fool
Pounding on my door!

I hid in a corner
Dark and alone,
Afraid to hear stories
Of great love!

That eloquent clock
Hanging on my wall
Just serves to show me
I've got no time at all.
My sight was fading--I was losing hope,
But who really needs it?
Who really does?

Let them catch you smiling
Babe! No!
Don't you ever let them!
Not even
For a second, babe!
Don't you let them ...

Then that casual man
Came sauntering in.
I'll never forget
That lonely face of his.

And in my mind I could
Relate to him;
He had no one to love
And no will to live.

Though he gave no sign,
He confused the facts,
Yet he told no lies!
How he hid his grief!
I felt so sad
For "Mr. Jive."

Mr. Jive, don't lay that trip on me!
You'll get by--Yes! Yes, indeed!

Mr. Jive, just forget your grief.
You'll be fine--Fine! Yes, indeed!

Oh, Mr. Jive,
We'll all be fine!
We'll survive--yes we will!
We'll survive--Yes! Yes, indeed!