Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Six Organs at the End

The times are never accurate until they are, they drink their face again, if only they'd just publicize

A bean in my heart, a winking star Jesus in heaven driving the natural fill here and weak in an actual car over there

Wings falling grangers again now wake up star and fill your belly, pray for the pill she'll be in my heart forgets another weed and you're right here now take your hand and pledge on my shirt where's the dirty three it comes to thee

Scale the summit balls all breach of thunder in a wave of your heart I'll see your low right thumb pawning sleep and sunshine drain it takes your lick and plunge

No no you got a middle and a friend and a nudge against the touch tree a different face in dream middle a thousand hard sold bunches in these organ silos an actual woman or more to bear & appear in the blanks

I don't know if you told me eager or even where's my biz me drugs I don't even take if you can malt fissure, Jesus binge, punt warrant, things I'm already on beggin me, she says we're one it's alright so lay me a low one now

Mission accomplished might be the day or a potato or way did you find me the freak or taze it, the count is up to one maybe three or what do you get there for a nice head these days anyway

Cellulite oxen stones'll weigh you down, a width of band pocket and smoulders to picks and paste, David Bowie in plastic furs, Sweet Jane on ice and a drumstick in my CGI script, oh heartbeat shooter oh a bee ay why bee oh

Great old billys gets yer bits bashed, where's the old still some shoulder & shine my golden coy toy winter, come back, raise high the roof for the golden foobar, where is Rebecca de Mornay, where is Ed Askew, where can I be

The chief antagonism between freak folk and nod-out, or Joan Baez on crack, trem brothers go trem two audio projection on you, crime and the city solution and two and a half hours was once minutes to go, now you never say have anything so you just say