Maytown loop

i want to be this piece of magma burning in your eye
an ember of such piercing heat you touch the Sun and die

i want to ride in your car and have the radio on
i want to hear Queen and Credence and Dawn

i want to be the President of France
and wear size 32 pants
when we visit the Louvre
you on my shoulder
and the press corps scrambling
we off to Monaco gambling
with Prince Rainier
you always wanting to be near

i want to be with a cardiac surgeon
eating fresh roe of Caspian sturgeon
by the raw Moroccan coast
chasing Lawrence of Arabia's ghost
into the rugged Atlas mountains
past desert camels and fountains
down to the market for an ice cold beer

AM I CLEAR?