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Awake.
Shake dreams from your hair
my pretty child, my sweet one.
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day
the day's divinity
First thing you see.
A vast radiant beach and cooled jeweled moon
Couples naked race down by it's quiet side
And we laugh like soft, mad children
Smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy
The music and voices are all around us.
Choose they croon the Ancient Ones
the time has come again
choose now, they croon
beneath the moon
beside an ancient lake
Enter again the sweet forest
Enter the hot dream
Come with us
everything is broken up and dances.
Indians scattered,
On dawn's highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young child?s,
Fragile eggshell mind
We have assembled inside,
This ancient and insane theater
To propagate our lust for life,
And flee the swarming wisdom of the streets.
The barns have stormed
The windows kept,
And only one of all the rest
To dance and save us
From the divine mockery of words,
Music inflames temperament.
Ooh great creator of being
Grant us one more hour,
To perform our art
And perfect our lives.
We need great golden copulations,
When the true kings murderers
Are allowed to roam free,
A thousand magicians arise in the land
Where are the feast we are promised?
One more thing
Thank you oh lord
For the white blind light
Thank you oh lord
For the white blind light
A city rises from the sea
I had a splitting headache
From which the future's made
Quote:
Dawn's Highway
Me and my -ah- mother and father - and a
Grandmother and a grandfather - were driving through
The desert, at dawn, and a truck load of indian
Workers had either hit another car, or just - i don't
Know what happened - but there were indians scattered
All over the highway, bleeding to death.
So the car pulls up and stops. that was the first time
I tasted fear. i musta' been about four - like a child is
Like a flower, his head is just floating in the
Breeze, man.
The reaction i get now thinking about it, looking
Back - is that the souls of the ghosts of those dead
Indians...maybe one or two of 'em...were just
Running around freaking out, and just leaped into my
Soul. and they're still in there.
Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding
Ghosts crowd the young child's fragile eggshell mind.
Blood in the streets in the town of new haven
Blood stains the roofs and the palm trees of venice
Blood in my love in the terrible summer
Bloody red sun of phantastic l.a.
Blood screams her brain as they chop off her fingers
Blood will be born in the birth if a nation
Blood is the rose of mysterious union
Blood on the rise, it's following me.
Indian, indian what did you die for?
Indian says, nothing at all.
Quote:
Lament
Lament for my cock
Sore and crucified
I seek to know you
Aquiring soulful wisdom
You can open walls of mystery
Stripshow
How to aquire death in the morning show
Tv death which the child absorbs
Deathwell mystery which makes me write
Slow train, the death of my cock gives life
Forgive the poor old people who gave us entry
Taught us god in the child's praye in the night
Guitar player
Ancient wise satyr
Sing your ode to my cock
Caress it's lament
Stiffen and guide us, we frozen
Lost cells
The knowledge of cancer
To speak to the heart
And give the great gift
Words power trance
This stable friend and the beast of his zoo
Wild haired chicks
Women flowering in their summit
Monsters of skin
Each color connects
To create the boat
Which rocks the race
Could any hell be more horrible
Than now
And real?
I pressed her thigh and death smiled
Death, old friend
Death and my cock are the world
I can forgive my injuries in the name of
Wisdom luxury romance
Sentence upon sentence
Words are the healing lament
For the death of my cock's spirit
Has no meaning in the soft fire
Words got me the wound and will get me well
If you believe it
All join now and lament the death of my cock
A tounge of knowledge in the feathered night
Boys get crazy in the head and suffer
I sacrifice my cock on the alter of silence
Quote:
Stoned Immaculate
I tell you this,
No eternal reward will forgive is now
For wasting the dawn.
Back in those days,
Everything was simpler and more confused.
One summer night, going to the pier,
I ran into two young girls.
The blonde was called Freedom,
The dark one, Enterprise.
We talked and they told me this story:
Now listen to this,
I'll tell you about Texas Radio and the Big Beat.
Soft driven slow and mad,
Like some new language.
Reaching your head
With the cold, sudden fury
Of a divine messenger.
Let me tell you about heartache
And the loss of god.
Wondering, wondering
In hopeless night.
Out here in the perimeter
There are no stars,
Out here we is stoned
Immaculate.
Quote:
The Movie
The movie will begin in five moments
The mindless voice announced
All those unseated will await the next show.
We filed slowly, languidly into the hall
The auditorium was vast and silent
As we seated and were darkened, the voice continued.
The program for this evening is not new
You've seen this entertainment through and through
You've seen your birth your life and death
you might recall all of the rest
Did you have a good world when you died?
Enough to base a movie on?
I'm getting out of here
Where are you going?
To the other side of morning
Please don't chase the clouds, pagodas
Her cunt gripped him like a warm, friendly hand.
It's alright, all your friends are here
When can I meet them?
After you've eaten
I'm not hungry
Oh, we meant beaten
Do you know the warm progress under the stars?
Do you know we exist?
Have you forgotten the keys to the Kingdom?
Have you been borne yet & are you alive?
Let's reinvent the gods, all the myths of the ages
Celebrate symbols from deep elder forests
Have you forgotten the lessons of the ancient war
We need great golden copulations
The fathers are cackling in trees of the forest
Our mother is dead in the sea
Do you know we are being led to slaughters by placid admirals
& that fat slow generals are getting obscene on young blood
Do you know we are ruled by T.V.
The moon is a dry blood beast
Guerilla bands are rolling numbers in the next block of green vine
amassing for warfare on innocent herdsmen who are just dying
O great creator of being grant us one more hour to perform our art & perfect our lives
The moths & atheists are doubly divine & dying
We live, we die & death not ends it
Journey we more into the Nightmare
Cling to life our passion'd flower
Cling to cunts & cocks of despair
We got our final vision by clap
Columbus' groin got filled w/ green death
I touched her thigh & death smiled
We have assembled inside this ancient & insane theatre
To propagate our lust for life & flee the swarming wisdom of the streets
The barns are stormed
The windows kept & only one of all the rest
To dance & save us
Woth the divine mockery of words
Music inflames temperament
When the true King's murderers are allowed to roam free
a 1000 magicians arise in the land
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04-08-2011, 09:49 PM
Wishful Sinful
