Text: Diane Cluck. Auction.

And the sun, it sets on the auction

But the auctioneer is still hawking

It seemed we had lots in common

Before we started talking



You said you'd come here looking for a heart

And checked out the white elephant table

Oh an elephant heart is a size too large

But its beat is incredibly stable

But its beat is incredibly stable



And the sun, it sets on the auction

And the things she spent lifetimes collecting

Trickle home through cross-continental carpools

After moments of appraising and dissecting

There was a frowning copy of the Mona Lisa

I bought a five dollar phone but I still couldn't reach you after many times trying

It was a problem with the wiring



One twenty five, one thirty five, one forty five, sold

Till shelvings and closets and cabinets are cold

One fifty five, one sixty five, one seventy five sold



The selling of things you can pick up and hold

When what I'd rather buy was the look on your face when you saw me and you started bidding

Until you had bid up all the money you'd saved and I laughed and you said, "I'm not kidding."

And I laughed and you said, "I'm not kidding."



And the sun, it sets on the auction

It gets darker now, fraction by fraction

And I feel it's time to be going

But something must move me to action

Then the auctioneer walks by with his mic in his hand

And he says, "I can't do this much longer

Oh, my tongue's getting slower and I can't keep up with the depth of their need and their hunger

With the depth of their need and their hunger."