McCaughey There was Esther in the street, a look of stunned decay There was Milo in his skirt, an apathetic grey Autumn leaves refuse to fall, Alphaville's unscreened A row of silent discotheques, the council not convened The glory that was Morey's Sex Shoppe is down to its last X Cardboard boxes line the curbs all filled with old T-Rex A hole punched in the whiskey flask A thousand tanks all parched for gas Billboard babies eulogized You'll never know if she's in order You'll never know what she's about You just try to keep yourself together When the Groove Supply has given out You'll never know if she's in order You'll never know what she's about The town that lost its Groove Supply is breathing its own dust The town that lost its Groove Supply just needs to be discussed But no one cares, no one can care, surely none of us The last time I saw Groove Supply she was getting on the bus You'll never know if she's in order You'll never know what she's about