Grounded

Doctors leaving for the holiday season
Got crystal ice picks no gift for the gab
And in the parking lots
Is the sedan he bought
He never complains when it's hot

He fowled a swollen daughter in a sauna
Playing contract bridge
There soaking up the fauna doing blotters
I don't know which, which, which
Boys are dying on the streets

I know the medical world could knock you out
Sell the coins that you jayed last Thursday
Dine by candlelight and hold your savings tight
You'll never know when the bridge falls apart
Hespoke of latent causes, sterile gauze's and
The bedside morale
He trapes around the table talking sentences so incomplete
Boys are dying on these streets