How's Tricks - Jack Bruce

The white hand in the darkened house

Rings a bell that makes the guests drop their cases in fright

A face that seems to laugh alone

Sits in the flames that warm the frozen stretches of night

The skeleton that smokes

His head half guillotined

Sits there telling jokes

About places he has cleaned

How’s tricks?

How’s tricks?

What kicks!

It sticks

Loud ticks…

The bow tie and the question mark

Set sail to beat the cards that rain around the chorus girls

The bullets from the golden gun

Appear to penetrate the flesh below the golden curls

Inside the clear white box

Lies a nervous bathing belle

She hope’s he’ll find the locks

That free her from the world

How’s tricks?

How’s tricks?

What kicks!

It sticks

Loud ticks…

The rabbit with the faded smile

Is listening to the artist playing in the mirrored room

The albums of forgotten songs

Grow dusty in the floodlit shelves somewhwre below the moon

Owls sit on the letters

Of his last name in lights

Demons and pacesetters

Laugh into the night

How’s tricks?

How’s tricks?

What kicks!

It sticks

Loud ticks…