happy hour at the saint sally sanitarium

this song started with the first half of the Peruvian flutist verse, because pretty much exactly that drama was played out down the street from where I work and it was amazing and intriguing, but i didn't have any place for that lyric until today when I typed the words "happy hour at the saint sally sanitarium" and it suddenly all clicked together into place and I knew exactly what I wanted to do with this song. it doesn't have music yet, but my Mom found my harmonica inside an armchair in our house the other day so I'm going to dust it off and actually come up with something... seriously, the prospect of me doing that is scary, but it absolutely must happen. hope you enjoy these lyrics, but please give me your honest opinion.

The old man in the corner, talking a mile a minute
was telling the sparrows that the war was over,
as they collected on the windowsill
bright flashes of white on brown,
the gentle pull of the breeze, pulling me down
it's happy hour at the saint sally sanitarium

[chorus]
take me back
take me back
I want to go home
please take me home
I wont spend the rest of my days
counting footsteps to the grave
wasting the rays of the fading sun
in happy hour at the saint sally sanitarium

the blue collar has not looked great
covered in ignoble stains
on the white collar worker of late,
but the kind nurse will have it replaced,
and the president of the society of Regina philanthropists and old men with money to spend takes his place
at the head of the table for elders and saints

as the peruvian flutist, sitting lonely plays his dirge
the dirty mother of his sons returns
a cry of joy spreads across his face
and casting down his flute they embrace
and this is the joy that comprises the sum
of happy hour at the saint sally sanitarium