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Nick Toczek - Dead Lines lyrics

Artist: Nick Toczek

album: The Columbus Memoirs


It's September in New York City
Days shorten and their balmy evenings
Populate piano bars with jaded journalists
Wordsmiths of world-weary wisdom
Authors of an uncertain age
Who're handsomely paid to pit their pithy wits
By penning pieces impaling the mood of the moment
Zooming in on the zeitgeist
The barmen are there to pour them all one more,
One more and one more for the road
But theirs is never a novel
Only an endless stream of counted column inches
Which map the monthlies, weeklies and dailies
Of this city's magazine stands
It's the late 1940s
What drives their writing is a blend of alcohol and chain-smoking
With a war just won
Their thoughts tumble as freely as autumn's falling leaves
And cynicism rules

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