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Underground

From a concrete overpass, a body did fall
into the lock, with magnificent splash and all
And the spectators, they did gather round
too wrapped up in conversation to speak a sound

And the vultures stalked, notepads in hand
pounced on the sensational, and embellished the bland
They spotted the horror, and viewed it as a hit
and thought they’d like to make the nightly news out of it

His lips were loose, and so it’s said
he squealed to a stranger, to inflate his own head
And when his comrades went and labeled him the mole
gave him two short shots in a subterranean hole

The weatherman, he went and prophesied for snow
hiding from cameras for another line of blow
Calls for his friends to run out of sight,
before the cold front moves in tonight