Van Goghs for the price of a hospital wing.

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post office clerks put up signs saying “position closed”
and secretaries turn off typewriters and put on their coats
and janitors padlock the gates for security guards to patrol
and bachelors phone up their friends for a drink
while the married ones turn on a chat show
and they’ll all be lonely tonight and lonely tomorrow

gentlemen, time please, you know we can’t serve anymore
now the traffic lights change to stop, when there’s nothing to go
and by five o’clock everything’s dead
and every third car is a cab
and ignorant people sleep in their beds
like the doped white mice in the college lab

telephone exchanges click while there’s nobody there
the Martians could land in the car park and no one would care
close-circuit cameras in department stores shoot the same movie every day
and the stars of these films neither die nor get killed
just survive constant action replay

and bill holdings advertise products that nobody needs
while angry from Manchester writes to complain about all the repeats on T.V.
and computer terminals report some gains on the values of copper and tin
while american businessmen snap up van goghs for the price of a hospital wing

and nothing ever happens, nothing happens at all
the needle returns to the start of the song
and we all sing along like before
and we’ll all be lonely tonight and lonely tomorrow

and nothing ever happens, nothing happens at all
they’ll burn down the synagogues at six o’clock
and we’ll all go along like before
and we’ll all be lonely tonight and lonely tomorrow

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