| The moltitude assembled and tried to make the noise
|
| The black blind poet generals
|
| And restless loud white boys
|
| But time grew thin and the axis
|
| Was left somehow incomplete
|
| Where instead of child lions
|
| We found aging junkie sheep
|
| How many wasted have I seen signed «hollywood or bust»
|
| Left to ride them ever ghostly arizona gusts
|
| Oh, cheerleader tramps and kids with big amps
|
| Sounding in the void
|
| High society vamps and ex-heavyweight champs
|
| Mistaking soot for soil
|
| So break me now big mama
|
| As old faithful breaks the day
|
| Believe me, my good linda
|
| The aurora will shine your way
|
| The confederacy, she’s in my name now
|
| And the hounds are held at bay
|
| The axis needs a stronger arm
|
| Do you feel your muscles play?
|
| The doorstep blanket weaver
|
| Madonna she’s pushing bells
|
| From house to house to house to house
|
| Giving last kisses and wishing well
|
| To every gypsy, mystic and all star hero
|
| That the kids might find the place
|
| Who’ve been lost forever to papa and mama
|
| On their weekends out in space
|
| Now the sons they search for fathers
|
| But their fathers have all gone
|
| The lost souls search for saviors
|
| But saviours don’t last long
|
| Those aimless, questionless renegade brats
|
| Who live their lives in songs
|
| They run the length of a candle
|
| In a goodnight whisper and a puff they’re gone
|
| So break me now big mama
|
| As old faithful breaks the day
|
| Believe me, my good linda
|
| The aurora will shine your way
|
| The confederacy, she’s in my name now
|
| And the hounds are held at bay
|
| The axis needs a stronger arm
|
| Do you feel your muscles play?
|
| The missions are filled with hermits looking for a friend
|
| The terraces are filled with cat-men looking for a way in
|
| There are orphans junked on silver mountains
|
| Lost in celestial alleyways
|
| They wait for that old tramp dog man moses
|
| He takes in all the strays
|
| «now, don’t grow on empty legends
|
| Or lonely cradle songs
|
| 'cause billy the kid was just a bowery boy
|
| Who made his living twirling his guns»
|
| The night she’s long, she’s lanky
|
| She speaks in her mother tongue
|
| And lullabies the refugees
|
| With an amplifier’s hum
|
| So break us now big mama
|
| As old faithful breaks the day
|
| Believe me, my sweet linda
|
| Oh, help is sure on the way
|
| The confederacy, she’s in my name now
|
| And the hounds are held at bay
|
| The axis needs a stronger arm
|
| Do you feel your muscles play?
|
| The confederacy, she’s in my name now
|
| And the hounds are held at bay
|
| The axis needs a stronger arm
|
| Do you feel your muscles play? |