working working working
gettin ‘ sore fingers
gettin’ a sore throat
(awww….!)
oh my “pitta” is outtacontrol
im on a roll
ive gone manic
im throwing out songs/ballets/architecture
ive designed a new earth and filled it with kilb-bots
ive thrown caution before swine
and pearls to the wind
i mean i got words accumulating in my shoes
i can write the blues during a black out
im rockin’
and
reelin’
im plucking the bass
and now there aint any more feathers
im drinkin’ unicorns with pink bulls
i say to others
hold me down boys
up up up i go
i mean im crazy
or is it just me
one hand playing
one hand painting
one hand on the 12
second hand close
ooh ohh nice crotchet, baybee
im quavering in perspective
i got 8 types of ambiguity
and a half eaten red herring
ive singlehandedly defeated punctuation
im saving you commas n capitals by the truckload
oh be serious, time bee, you say
yer cryptick jive ennervates
baby i aint no knobtwiddler
im a master fader
i have backwards reverb with my lunch
i stand up n say
?gnineppah stahw
space?
i m not talking to it…
ive gone marine…
ive gone out
then i went
im fucking across it baybee
and im across you
bathing in your estuaries
gazing at your lagoon
im diving deep beneath the surface
i can hold my breath for weeks
idiots begone
idiots begone
idiots begone
im daddy spearfisher
you gonna wriggle n shudder
you gonna attract sharks
the rip is sucking you out
down to the bed you go
down deep where monsters lie
barbs n shaft
hook n line
wrecks n debris
slowly now slowly
spinning out of sight
warm warm warm
blue n green
you flood
i pour
over
this blogges fer yew
posted on November 12, 2006 at 7:57 pm
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