 Conduit for Sale! (Pavement)I'm tryin', I'm tryin'....Imagine if you will Herr Proctor, alias a nobleman, son of son of scionscion. Part of his rich inheritance, parcel in generous (divorced sense)forklift beam. Certain plots of land and living quarters deemed by allgentlemen, and wives thereof, to be grossly humane and frankly, quite(undirty)I'm tryin', I'm tryin'....Herr Proctor, in his enviable good taste, tries quick escape gambit via localperiodicals, but no takers. The land (unending) was stationed in a conduitbetween two cells, a veritable no-man's-land, (rain, the flophouse, cog-bone terrors) and carbon monoxide wallpaper. All (his brig-deck trina)boys ask: is it livable?I'm tryin', I'm tryin'....
Background:(No one's gonna save me/ No one's gonna make me arrange)(2x)
Unable to bear the scandal, Ray, philanthropist, rents low-down scabhouse in conduit, Herr Proctor offers said land for a song, but no onewants to sing. In an attempt to maintain social privileges, yet mask it asgoodwill, he says to the conduit members, 'Take this rotten old tree andmake it bear fruit." Cheers erupted throughout the (???) settlement. AnItalian male was heard to say, "between here and there is better thananything over there!"I'm tryin', I'm tryin'....
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