Richard Shindell Parasol Ants
The thief is down
Flat on the ground
Face on cement
A crowd gathers round
His old black coat
Thrown over his head
The crowd's all hushed
Cause it looks like he's dead
He's got a limited view
Just one patch of light
Shining down
On a curious sight
Parasol ants
In a perfect line
With bright green leaves
Raised up high
And he is God and those leaves are sails
He is God and his breath is the gale
He is God with time to kill
He is God and he can do just what he will
But God is bored
So it's, what the hell
He let's go a gust
Just to watch them flail
The ants go flying
In disarray
Those bright green leaves
All blown away
(Chorus)
But God's got problems
He's busted, but good
He ain't nothin'
Just a well-known local hood
The ants keep coming
They pay him no mind
They've got leaves to move
They just march on by
(Chorus)
