Ian Anderson
AWOL
Stormy-eyed on the edge of dawn:
Nose pressed against the triple glaze
Floor to ceiling, wall to wall
Silent traffic streams both ways
Along the fussy freeway drivers
Dream of sunday barbecues
Of a sudden, seems I can barely
Face my self: no face to lose
Call the bosses. call supervisors
Won't be in today to work for you

E-mail that girl who's working nights
She can dress down for this wind and rain
Leave her new korean compact:
Let some cabbie take the strain
Take a shower. take big espresso
Take to the hills, and take a view
Little black dress stretching over
Hard crystal peaks: soft valleys too

Call the bosses. call for nurses
Unfit today to work for you

No wet excuses. absent without leave
I'll be her dayshift driver: exotic engineer
Stormy-eyed on the edge of night:
(december, eastern time: late afternoon.)
Atlantic city tight behind
Trump casina calls pontoon
Gristle-burger, frazzled fries
End this romantic interlude
Tomorrow morning's sweet awakening
Could hardly prove to be as rude
Make the journey. make amends
Work some hasty overtime in lieu

No wet excuses. absent without leave
I'll be her dayshift driver: exotic engineer