Strung out on superlatives Absolute and naked Favorites or champions Still conclude So soft i faint From lack of restraint Eclipse the mystery We can see its face When flesh tones blur within Your shirt and i keep it quiet That i'm so austere and pious Therein lies the waste-not Upped on minor leisure Who's scoring for fun but not me? Offer over automatic Of the good and wrong We croon like bats Making waves so the air contracts [From The Rehearsal Dinner liner notes]