Applause ©1993
Inspired by band tension
Written in my bedroom at my folks house
PHOTO of Jim Sloan at The Whisky, Hollywood
I wore out the pessimist in me
Never mind my constant abuse towards he

Deep within our closet of brilliance 
After a short nap of prediction
He says I suffer from paranoia,
And now I suffer from a fabrication of truth
I mustn’t try my talents in manipulation

I tried to warn ya, but you weren’t listening
I tried to tell ya, I tried to help ya

I don’t rely on excuses
Those resulting in justification
And now I take the front with motivation
I tried to show ability in dedication
Wont you help me, I’m not listening
I can’t hear ya, I can’t see ya
He’s such a senseless fool 
I make the rules  

We close our eyes and wonder 
I’m expected to conclude it’s nothing
He sought upon a remanence of greed
Calling out and grabbing your persuasion
But I have no choice in this situation  

You tried to push me away 
clap your hands 

I close my mouth and remain silent 
Have got to make up their mind
He said I had to no voice to add to our creation 
He said I couldn’t sing... (he’s right)  

I can’t hear a word you say 
Clap your hands