imagine this then this 2012

back in my mansuit playing eclectic base catarrh

a roc n role band

we part of some big big tour

i imagine

some severe…dislocation…has taken place

oh yeah i’m the singer too

the singer gazelle

the singer sowing machine

i planted some things which came to uh fruition

my mind is so fast my fingers too slow

who am i today mad or imperfectly sane

i am calling clouds to this blew blue sky

i call them and they start to swirl now above the azure pool

round n round about my head

a crown of cirrus stratus title nimbus

my clouds my clouds i bring you music to feast upon

you must be made kilbey thinks the clouds to me

you must be made mad or else you are onto something

strange sketchy clouds like horse skellingtons

like crazy ghoul stallions all sky and bone drifting above but

i bet only i notices

the palms for i am in a resort

no other accom my crickets

all booked up my loci

i read a book by pete who about his life as a genius

always wond’rin if hes bi or something

that was a long way down my own list of priorities, my dreaming ones

just above parachutes and just below bunjy jumping

except for five minutes in 1972 when i noticed they invented diggy starwinkle

and the aphids from satin

poor pete who but fuck i love his music

the other guys in the group didnt always understand him

he went up n down all over the place

knocking out stuff on his home studio smokin’ too much weed

now with bad hearing too

ya wouldnt read about it my inklings now would you?

me….?

i am in this resort in the middle of a lovely edenic nowhere

think palm springs on the sea

think some holiday spot in israel or maybe no cal but hot

think portugal where every drug is leegle

and usage has shrunken….duh!

anyway i call the storm to me

i am on at about 6 this arvo

i want the negative ions to feed my music

i must be mad

yes say the clouds

you must!

 

 

ITS A HUNDRED DEGREES!