Sometimes its hard to be a woman. Givin' all your love to just one man. You'll have bad times. And he'll have good times. Doin' things that you don't understand.
Not for me the factory floor,. Sweeping up from nine to four.. Not for me the silly rat race,. I don't see the point in anycase.. People ask me why I say what I do,.
I listened to a bird. that told me all. He seemed to make no sense as I recall. I listened to the bees, their buzzing sounds. Told nothing of the purpose of their rounds.
Not for me the factory floor. Sweeping up from nine to four. Not for me the silly rat race. Don't see the point in anycase. People ask me why I say what I do.
Listen to the grass that's out there blowin'. Look at that tractor just there sittin'. It's my name that the bottle's callin'. Listen to the goddamn song I'm singin'.
The grey man at the wheel. Looks around to see if there's some skirt he can steal. He doesn't really want to, he's just acting out a game. In their own fucked up way, most people do the same.
Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright. Round yon Virgin Mother and Child. Holy Infant so tender and mild. Sleep in Heavenly peace. Sleep in Heavenly peace.
Mccormack and richard tauber are sitting by the bed. There's a glass of punch below your feet and an angel at your head. There's devils on each side of you with bottles in their hands.
I AM NO FEEBLE CHRIST/NOT ME/HE HANGS IN GLIB DELIGHT UPON HIS CROSS/. ABOVE MY BODY/LOWLY ME/CHRIST FORGIVE/FORGIVE?/HOLY HE/HE HOLY/HE. HOLY/SHIT HE FORGIVES/FORGIVE?/FORGIVE?/FORGIVE?/I?/I?/ME?/I?/I VOMIT.
I shot an ol' bottle with my favorite gun just last night. It shattered and the sound made me feel like the king I am. The neighbors all heard and got scared.
Yes that's right, punk is dead. It's just another cheap product for the consumers head. Bubblegum rock on plastic transistors. Schoolboy sedition backed by big time promoters.
You could be away for quite some time. But you'd never leave my foolish mind. You can step right on my foolish heart. You had me hooked, you had me from the start.
Your tactile eyes running over glossy paper. Printed on with tactile lies of glaze and gauze. They say "forget yourself, adorn with this disguise". This womanhood of smooth and tampered whores.
All I am I give to you. You'll honor me, I'll obey you. Rich or poor or come what may. We'll forsake all other love. Just we two, one flesh, one blood.
Who needs lobotomy when we've got the ITV. Who needs ECT when there's good old BBC?. Switch on the set, light up the screen. Fantasise and dream about what you might have been.
Sorry to wake you up. There's something at our bed. They're trying to talk to us. Our sheets are now in threads. . They're tossing stones from the end of our bed.
Put a face. on the page. into scenes. put a time. to a place. with a theme. . Give it rhythm. meet the strict. rhyming scheme. get it down. write it out.
--------------------. Just because there are rules. it doesn't mean the game is fair. so you head the revolution. in your own illusion of despair. When were you a year ago today.
They're always there high in the skies.... Nagasaki nightmare, Nagasaki nightmare. Pretty as a picture in the generals' eyes. Nagasaki nightmare, Nagasaki nightmare.