Conquistador your stallion stands in need of company and like some angel's haloed brow you reek of purity I see your armour-plated breast has long since lost its sheen and in your death mask face there are no signs which can be seen
And though I hoped for something to find I could see no maze to unwind Conquistador a vulture sits upon your silver shield and in your rusty scabbard now the sand has taken seed and though your jewel-encrusted blade has not been plundered still the sea has washed across your face and taken of its fill
And though I hoped for something to find I could see no maze to unwind Conquistador there is no time I must pay my respect and though I came to jeer at you I leave now with regret and as the gloom begins to fall I see there is no, only all and though you came with sword held high you did not conquer, only die
And though I hoped for something to find I could see no maze to unwind
She wandered through the garden fence and said, 'I've brought at great expense a potion guaranteed to bring relief from all your suffering.' And though I said, 'You don't exist,' she grasped me firmly by the wrist and threw me down upon my back and strapped me to her torture rack And, without further argument I found my mind was also bent upon a course so devious it only made my torment worse
She said, 'I see you cannot speak is it your voice that is too weak? Is it your tongue that is to blame? Maybe you cannot speak for shame. Or has your brain been idle too, and now it will not think for you?' I hastened to make my reply but found that I could only lie And like a fool I believed myself and thought I was somebody else But she could see what I was then and left me on my own again
While standing at the junction on 42nd Street I idly kick a pebble lying near my feet I hear a weird noise, take a look up and down The cause of the commotion is right there on the ground Imagine my surprise, thought I'd left it at home but there's no doubt about it, it's my own tombstone
I went into a shop, and bought a loaf of bread I sank my teeth into it, thought I'd bust my head I dashed to the dentist, said, 'I've got an awful pain!' The man looks in my mouth and screams, 'This boy is insane!' Imagine my surprise, thought I'd left it at home but there's a lump in my mouth of my own tombstone
I went to see a movie, got the only empty seat I tried to stretch out in it, something blocking my feet Finally the lights came up, and I could clearly see a slab of engraved marble, just staring up at me Imagine my surprise, thought I'd left it at home but there's no doubt I'm sitting on my own tombstone
Don't eat green meat it ain't good for you you know it killed your brother, killed your sister too even fresh fried chicken on new-mown sand can't beat red beans eaten outa your hand
Oh Mabel, Mabel! You know I love you gal but I'm not able Mabel, oh Mabel, please get off the kitchen table Don't slice no onions, don't peel no grape dream about banana slice nor sniff around short cake and if on a winter's day you find your sundial's wrong you'll know the weather is what's brought it on
Oh Mabel, Mabel! You know I love you gal but I'm not able Mabel, oh Mabel, please get off the kitchen table Put the peas in the pot, put the pot on the hot In the cellar lies my wife, in my wife there's a knife so tote that hammer, lift that pick and banish inhibition with a pogo stick
Oh Mabel, Mabel! You know I love you gal but I'm not able Mabel, oh Mabel, please get off the kitchen table
Outside the gates of Cerdes sits the two-pronged unicorn who plays at relaxation time a rhinestone flugelhorn whilst mermaids lace carnations into wreaths for ailing whales and Neptune dances hornpipes while Salome sheds her veils
Phallus Phil tries peddling his pewter painted pot but Sousa Sam can only hear the screams of Peep the sot who only sips his creme de menthe from terra cotta cups and exhales menthol scented breath whilst spewing verbiage up
Down technical blind alleys live the wraiths of former dreams And Greeps who often crossed them are no longer what they seem And even Christian Scientists can but display marble plaques Which only retell legends whilst my eyes reach out for facts Yeah, my eyes reach out for facts
My amazon six-triggered bride now searching for a place to hide still sees the truth quite easily but shrouds all else in mystery while madmen in top hats and tails impale themselves on six-inch nails and some Arabian also-ran impersonates a watering can
Some Santa Claus-like face of note entreats my ears to set afloat my feeble sick and weary brain and I am overcome with shame and hide inside my overcoat and hurriedly begin to quote while some Arabian sheikh most grand impersonates a hot-dog stand
The Red Cross ambulance outside can only mean that I must hide 'til dusk and finally the night when I will make a hasty flight across the sea and far away to where the weary exiles stay and some Arabian oil-well impersonates a padded cell
Jostle, hassle, elbow bustle in a swirling rainbow tussle Caught and frozen, broken sheen now unites for one brief scene
Lonely in the dark I grope the key's in my kaleidoscope Confused faces change their places take up stances, exchange glances Lost in multicoloured hues there is no whole which I can choose
Lonely in the dark I grope the key's in my kaleidoscope In one face, one moment's fusion realize the new illusion Clutching fingers break the puzzle jostle, hassle, elbow bustle
Still out in the dark I grope the key's in my kaleidoscope
You come to me at midnight and say, 'It's dark in here.' You know you robbed me of my sight, and light is what I fear I tell you that I can not see but you persist in showing me those bangles that I paid for long ago
And though my face is smiling I'm really feeling low and though you say you're with me I know that it's not so Your skin crawls up an octave, your teeth have lost their gleam The peaches snuggle closer down into the clotted cream and for some unknown reason my watch begins to chime and though I beg and plead with you, you tell me it's not time
And though my face is smiling I'm really feeling low and though you say you're with me I know that it's not so The sun seeps through the window to see if we're still dead to try to throw some light upon the gloom around our bed At quarter past the doorbell rings, the water faucet drips and sings and still my reason will not rhyme, and still you tell me it's not time
And though my face is smiling I'm really feeling low and though you say you're with me I know that it's not so You really know that it's not so
Still scowling black good Captain Clack must eat his humble pie His bed is made the colours fade his eyes once wet are dry
The naked muse who sits and chews tobacco off a tree removes his shoes gives way to booze and searches endlessly
See the naked jumberlack sip his aphrodisiac Cotton-picking farmers three Though I lost my weather vane and of sense I have one grain I'm content sipping lemon tea
Lime Street in the afternoon everybody crazy as a coon I'm running round in my underpants trying to find some kinda romance
Quarter past three [sic] on Lime Street I got whipped right offa my feet Didn't realize that I'd been caught till I found myself in the County Court
'Mr Judge,' I said, 'Won't you please be kind Have pity on me, a poor orphan child?' Mr Judge he says with a long mean frown 'Orphan or not, you're going down!'
Well I screamed on my knees in the witness box, 'Lord have mercy on my golden locks.' The judge I could see that he was snide He says, 'The only kind of blonde you are's a peroxide!'
Oh Lime Street, Lime Street Lime Street, that's where we meet
