Ides of Swing

Some say April is the cruelest
 And though I can be quite morose
 The stiff who penned it on a fool's list
 Of those who are chronically verbose
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 When your head starts craning back
 And your breath comes short and fast
 The music of the spheres start to bounce and sing
 That's when you know you're swinging
 When your eyes roll back into your head
 And the sap of the trees on your fingers have bled
 Swooning to the charms of Mephisto's waltz
 That's when you know you've got some schmaltz
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 When you've got the evil eye and unconsciously growl
 Your hands start shaking, and you crouch and prowl
 These terrifying symptoms are a sure-fire sign
 That you're pimpin', baby, and your feeling fine
 When you make love to whomever you please
 And a bullet to the head feels like a soft, warm breeze
 Red suit, green suit, they're all there scheming
 That's when you know you're dreaming
 Yes you're dreaming
 You are dreaming
 I hope you are dreaming