Losing My Elan
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somewhere i've got a photo
it shows how important i am
but these days the fun's left the farm
no style left - it's all canned
someone spit and left a smeary smudge
it's camouflaging my elan
but here's a clipping from a magazine
a gossip rag to wipe your windows clean
that's me in the middle - surrounded by greats
men of letters, heads of state
i permeated the upper crusts
like water poured out on the sand
until some asshole came down the road
and crushed the domain of my elan
you can slag my clothes
ridicule my style
plunder the domain of my taste
but somehow, somewhere, i can keep
the memory of my elan