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    The Perfect Sense, Part 1

    The monkey sat on a pile of stones
    And stared at the broken bone in his hand
    And the stains of a Viennese quartet
    Rang out across the land
    The monkey looked up at the stars
    And thought to himself
    Memory is a stranger
    History is for fools
    And he cleaned his hands
    In a pool of holy writing
    Turned his back on the garden
    And set out for the nearest town
    Hold on hold on soldier
    When you add it all up
    The tears and the marrowbone
    There's an ounce of gold
    And an ounce of pride in each ledger
    And the Germans killed the Jews
    And the Jews killed the Arabs
    And the Arabs killed the hostages
    And that is the news
    And is it any wonder
    That the monkey's confused
    He said Mama Mama
    The President's a fool
    Why do I have to keep reading
    These technical manuals
    And the joint chiefs of staff
    And the brokers on Wall Street said
    Don't make us laugh
    You're a smart kid
    Time is linear
    Memory is a stranger
    History is for fools
    Man is a tool in the hands
    Of the great God Almighty
    And they gave him command
    Of a nuclear submarine
    And sent him back in search of
    The Garden of Eden

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