文本歌词

The Party
Phil Ochs
The fire breathing Rebels arrive at the party early
Their khaki coats are hung in the closet near the fur
Asking handouts from the ladies while they criticize the lords
Boasting of the murder of the very hands that pour
And the victims learn to giggle for at least they are not bored
And my shoulders had to shrug
As I crawl beneath the rug
And retune my piano
The Hostess is enormous she fills the room with perfume
She meets the guests and smothers them with greetings
And she asks how are you as she offers them a drink
The Countess of the social grace who never seems to blink
And she promises to talk to you if you promise not to think
And my shoulders had to shrug as I crawled beneath the rug
And retuned my piano
The Beauty of the hour is blazing in the present
She surrounds herself with those who would surrender
Floating in the flattery she's a trophy-prize caressed
Protected by a pretty face sometimes cursed sometimes blessed
And she's staring down their desires while they're staring down her dress
And my shoulders had to shrug etc
The egos shine like lightbulbs so bright you cannot see them
Blind each other blinder than a sandbox
All the fury of an argument holding back their yawns
A challenge shakes the chandliers the selfish swords are drawn
To the loser go the hangups to the victor go the hangers on
And my shoulders had to shrug etc
They travel to the table the host is served for supper
And they pass each other for salt and pepper
And the conversation sparkles as their wits are dipped in wine
Dinosaurs on a diet on each other they will dine
Then they pick their teeth and they squelch a belch saying：
Darling you tasted divine
And my shoulders had to shrug etc
The Wallflower is waiting she hides behind composure
She'd love to dance and prays that no one asks her
Then she steals a glance at lovers while her fingers tease her hair
And she marvels at the confidence of those who hide their fears
Then her eyes are closed as she rides away with a foreign legionaire
And my shoulders had to shrug etc
Romeo is reeling counting notches on his thighbone
Searching for one hundred and eleven
And he's charming as a child as he leads them to the web
Seducing queens and gypsy girls in the boudoir of his head
Then he wraps himself with a tablecloth and pretends he is a bed
And my shoulders had to shrug etc
The party must be over even the Losers are leaving
But just one doubt is nagging at my caustic mind：
So I snuck up close behind me and I gave myself a kiss
And I led myself to the mirror to expose what I had missed
There I saw a laughing maniac who was writing songs like this
And my shoulders had to shrug etc