Solipsism Blues

I'm the flesh behind the statistics With children two point five Subscribing to mammon's golden rule To live and not just survive I dwell in the midst of plenty, have more than I can use Always filling, never full Got the solipsism blues I'm a trendy New York reporter Gate keeper of The Views What I define as important By default is so to you What moves your unwashed heart? I don't know the tune Clarity grows poorly in the sterile soil of an elite Soho cocoon Why do the unenlightened not see my expertise in these things? Can they not discern a superior soul? One of Plato's philosopher kings Not that I need their validation From others I take my cues But sometimes less than full oblation Gives me the solipsism blues I'm a Hollywood luminary In a fantasy world immersed By osmosis I acquired, when stardom descended The secrets of the universe Though I repeat ad infinitum I'm not a doctor except on TV Tomorrow I'll appear before Congress To establish a medical decree Soon I am convinced myself That I live the part I choose But when reminded I'm only mortal I get the solipsism blues The solipsism blues Ego whimpers unbound Death throes dressed in vainglory To the praise of idiots redound Written February 27th, 2002 © on Feb 27 2002 10:19 AM PST, Bruce Newman   0 • 1