away, and believe these words you hear when you think your path is clear . . . we have no control, we do not understand, you have no control, you are
: this isn't another new fashion or a new plastic trend, everybody's searching for something but in the mean time let's all just pretend I've got this
: well the sheaves have all been brought, but the fields have washed away, and the palaces now stand where the coffins all were laid, and the times we
: there's a specter in the corner of an illustrated page, and a lonesome muted stringling with a rapt remedial gaze, the poverty of his language and
: he's the latest super hero with powers so profound he can leap a dotted line in just a single bound, I know you must have seen him in books and magazines
: there's a watch in my pocket and its hands are broken, the face is blank the gears are turning, confusion is a fundamental state of mind, it doesn'
: and progress is not intelligently planned, it's the facade of our heritage, the odor of our land, they speak of progress, in red, white and blue, it
: stranded in a life in which your struggle for acceptance is a never-ending chore, upbraided for your actions past and present and rewarded for ideas
can your loins bear fruit forever? is your fecundity a trammel or a treasure? I want to conquer the world, give all the idiots a brand new religion,
: the wheat waving next to you is healthy and so fine as is dinner with your loved-ones every day, but your routines is changeless through the decades
: you've got to quit your little charade and join the freak parade now that your road has been paved from conception to your grave, there are enormous
: a love song to the self, a story recapped every day, a world of bogus feelings and a world of slow decay. a world of laughter hidden by this world
: I can recall the warm youth of a summer day, The sweetest lemonade, The darkest game arcade, And Billy had a yearning In the corner of his mind, It
: there's a place where everyone can be happy, it's the most beautiful place in the whole fucking world, it's made of candy canes and planes, red choo
: going through a world of sad debris, regard quixotic reveries of ownership, the blossoming disease of man called tenure and accretion, the ancient
He's the latest superhero with powers so profound He leaped a dotted line in just a single bound I know you must have seen him in books and magazines
It's a love song to the self, a story recapped every day It's a world of bogus feelings and a world of slow decay It's a world of laughter hidden by this
