| Do you know the warm progress under the stars?
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| Do you know we exist?
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| Have you forgotten the keys to the Kingdom?
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| Have you been borne yet & are you alive?
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| Let’s reinvent the gods, all the myths of the ages
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| Celebrate symbols from deep elder forests
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| We need great golden copulations
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| The fathers are cackling in trees of the forest
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| Our mother is dead in the sea
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| Do you know we are being led to slaughters by placid admirals
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| & that fat slow generals are getting obscene on young blood
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| Do you know we are ruled by T. V
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| The moon is a dry blood beast
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| Guerilla bands are rolling numbers in the next block of green vine
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| Amassing for warfare on innocent herdsmen who are just dying
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| O great creator of being grant us one more hour to perform our art & perfect
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| our lives
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| The moths & atheists are doubly divine & dying
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| We live, we die & death not ends it
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| Journey we more into the Nightmare
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| Cling to life our passion’d flower
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| Cling to cunts & cocks of despair
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| We got our final vision by clap
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| Columbus' groin got filled w/ green death
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| (I touched her thigh & death smiled)
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| We have assembled inside this ancient & insane theatre
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| To propagate our lust for life & flee the swarming wisdom of the streets
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| The barns are stormed
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| The windows kept & only one of all the rest
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| To dance & save us
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| W/ the divine mockery of words
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| Music inflames temperament
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| (When the true King’s murderers are allowed to roam free a 1000 magicians arise
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| in the land)
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| Where are the feasts
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| We were promised
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| Where is the wine
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| The New Wine
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| (dying on the vine)
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| Resident mockery give us an hour for magic
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| We of the purple glove
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| We of the starling flight & velvet hour
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| We of arabic pleasure’s breed
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| We of sundome & the night
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| Give us a creed
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| To believe
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| A night of Lust
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| Give us trust in
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| The Night
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| Give of color
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| Hundred hues
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| A rich Mandala
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| For me & you & for your silky pillowed house
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| A head, wisdom & a bed
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| Troubled decree
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| Resident mockery
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| Has claimed thee
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| We used to believe in the good old days
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| We still receive In little ways
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| The Things of Kindness & unsporting brow
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| Forget & allow
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| Did you know freedom exists in a school book
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| Did you know madmen are running our prison
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| W/in a jail, w/in a gaol, w/in a white free protestant
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| Maelstrom
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| We’re perched headlong
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| On the edge of boredom
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| We’re reaching for death
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| On the end of a candle
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| We’re trying for something
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| That’s already found us
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| We can invent Kingdoms of our own
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| Grand purple thrones, those chairs of lust
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| & love we must, in beds of rust
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| Steel doors lock in prisoner’s screams
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| & muzak, AM, rocks their dreams
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| No black men’s pride to hoist the beams
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| While mocking angels sift what seems
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| To be a collage of magazine dust
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| Scratched on foreheads of walls of trust
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| This is just jail for those who must
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| Get up in the morning & fight for such unusable standards
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| While weeping maidens show-off penury & pout ravings for a mad staff
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| Wow, I’m sick of doubt
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| Live in the light of certain
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| South
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| Cruel bindings
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| The servants have the power dog-men & their mean women
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| Pulling poor blankets over our sailors
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| (& where were you in our lean hour)
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| Milking your moustache?
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| Or grinding a flower?
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| I’m sick of dour faces
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| Staring at me from the T. V
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| Tower. |
| I want roses in my garden bower; |
| dig?
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| Royal babies, rubies must now replace aborted
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| Strangers in the mud
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| These mutants, blood-meal
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| For the plant that’s plowed
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| They are waiting to take us into the severed garden
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| Do you know how pale & wanton thrillful
|
| Comes death on strange hour
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| Unannounced, unplanned for like a scaring over-friendly guest you’ve brought to
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| bed
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| Death makes angels of us all & gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as
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| raven’s claws
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| No more money, no more fancy dress
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| This other Kingdom seems by far the best until its other jaw reveals incest &
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| loose obedience to a vegetable law
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| I will not go
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| Prefer a Feast of Friends
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| To the Giant family
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| Great screaming Christ
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| Upsy-daisy
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| Lazy Mary will get you up upon a Sunday morning
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| «The movie will begin in 5 moments»
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| The mindless Voice announced
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| «All those unseated, will await The next show»
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| We filed slowly, languidly into the hall. |
| The auditorium was vast, & silent |
| As we seated & were darkened
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| The Voice continued:
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| «The program for this evening is not new. |
| You have seen This entertainment thru
|
| & thru
|
| You’ve seen your birth, your life & death; |
| you might recall all of the rest
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| — (did you have a good world when you died?) — enough to base a movie on?»
|
| An iron chuckle rapped our minds like a fist
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| I’m getting out of here
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| Where’re you going?
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| To the other side of the morning
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| Please don’t chase the clouds
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| Pagodas, temples
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| Her cunt gripped him
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| Like a warm friendly hand
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| «It's all right
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| All your friends are here.»
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| When can I meet them?
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| «After you’ve eaten»
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| I’m not hungry
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| «O, we meant beaten»
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| Silver stream, silvery scream
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| Impossible concentration
|
| Here come the comedians
|
| Look at them smile
|
| Watch them dance
|
| An indian mile
|
| Look at them gesture
|
| How aplomb
|
| So to gesture everyone
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| Words dissemble
|
| Words be quick
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| Words resemble walking sticks
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| Plant them
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| They will grow
|
| Watch them waver so
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| I’ll always be
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| A word-man
|
| Better than a birdman
|
| But I’ll charge
|
| Won’t get away
|
| W/out lodging a dollar
|
| Shall I say it again
|
| Aloud, you get the point
|
| No food w/out fuel’s gain
|
| I’ll be, the irish loud
|
| Unleashed my beak
|
| At peak of powers
|
| O girl, unleash
|
| Your worried comb
|
| O worried mind
|
| Sin in the fallen
|
| Backwoods by the blind
|
| She smells debt
|
| On my new collar
|
| Arrogant prose
|
| Tied in a network of fast quest
|
| Hence the obsession
|
| Its quick to admit
|
| Fats borrowed rhythm
|
| Woman came between them
|
| Women of the world unite
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| Make the world safe
|
| For a scandalous life
|
| Hee Heee
|
| Cut your throat
|
| Life is a joke
|
| Your wife’s in a moat
|
| The same boat
|
| Here comes the goat
|
| Blood Blood Blood Blood
|
| They’re making a joke
|
| Of our universe
|
| Matchbox
|
| Are you more real than me
|
| I’ll burn you, & set you free
|
| Wept bitter tears
|
| Excessive courtesy
|
| I won’t forget
|
| A hot sick lava flowed up
|
| Rustling & bubbling
|
| The paper-face
|
| Mirror-mask, I love you mirror
|
| He had been brainwashed for 4 hrs
|
| The LT. |
| puzzled in again
|
| «ready to talk»
|
| «No sir» — was all he’d say
|
| Go back to the gym
|
| Very peaceful
|
| Meditation
|
| Air base in the desert
|
| Looking out venetian blinds
|
| A plane
|
| A desert flower
|
| Cool cartoon
|
| The rest of the World
|
| Is reckless & dangerous
|
| Look at the
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| Brothels
|
| Stag films
|
| Exploration
|
| A ship leaves port
|
| Mean horse of another thicket
|
| Wishbone of desire
|
| Decry the metal fox |