BLAMING THE MESSENGER WORDS & MUSIC:   Earl P. Reinhalter I. Mercury trips over wings on his feet and drops his baton like a crucifix. the thermometer slips, my dreams in retreat: ninety-eight, ninety-seven, ninety-six point six. I was tabula rasa become a slave to a massa. you can call someone to fix the weather vane. it's time to blame the messenger again. II. a minute in traffic is a century late in the glass and the steel of your microscope. a sympathy laugh at a minor complaint becomes a report in an envelope. if the want ads were honest, they would do what they promised. they would tell the future, they would tell the truth: you will quit, you'll be fired, you will throw away your youth. CHORUS: blaming the messenger is easier than fixing what's wrong. blaming the messenger makes you feel so strong. you can say it was the messenger blame it on the messenger every day I hear the same old song. you can say it was the messenger blame it on the messenger but everybody knows it was you all along. everybody knows you're what's wrong. /// REPEAT CHORUS /// ENDING: Ivan Denisovich is workin' like a son-of-a-bitch. all the people stop to ask him why. Ivan Denisovich says, "I'm building a bridge over the River Kwai. that's why. every beam and trestle is straight and on the level. we all do our best, even for the devil. that's why." © Copyright 1994 Earl P. Reinhalter.   All Rights Reserved.