Weather Report Lyrics - Imaginary Television - Graham Parker

Hey, can you tell me 

What everybody plans to do 

Hey, can you tell me 

Where's everybody's going to 

They're out there on the street 

They must be elite 

They got shoes I can't afford on their 

Quick fast feet 

They have modified irises 

Behind opaque lens 

They're hiding equipment 

Behind barbed wire fences 

They have somewhere to go 

They have somewhere to lurk 

They have this high-end electronic stuff 

I wouldn't know how to work 

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Hey, can you tell me 

What everybody plans to do 

Hey, can you tell me 

Where's everybody's going to 

I'm sitting here on my couch 

My enthusiasm sinking 

I don't know where anybody's going 

I don't know what they're thinking 

There seems to be some secret 

That everybody's onto 

But I just don't seem to get it man 

Not even if I want to 

Hey, can you tell me 

What everybody plans to do 

Hey, can you tell me 

Where's everybody's going to 

Photos 

I got an upright piano 

That is blocking my door 

However, my fingers don't obey me 

So I don't play it anymore 

I got chains around my ankles 

That are made out of spaghetti 

My newspaper's shredded 

Into so much confetti 

I tried to make sense of it 

But my eyes start to bleed 

Every single page is impossible to read 

Hey, can you tell me 

What everybody plans to do 

Hey, can you tell me 

Where's everybody's going to