King Missile

And then and then and so and life
And see and look I mean like me
And feel and fly and go
I mean like you and where and who
And how and there
And why and so what

(Various noises)

And now and no and yeah and uhh
And so I mean like you now
And stop and stay
And down and low
I mean like come and then
Ladadadadada

I could be here
I could be in a salad
I could be out of town
I could be in paradise
I could be anywhere (x2)

I could be near the refrifgerator
I could be on the roof
I could be in Mesopotamia
I could be back in the salad again
I could be anywhere (x3)

I could be in transit
I could be in bed
I could be incandescent
I could be in I could be out
It doesn't matter, leave me alone

I could be anywhere (x4)

I could be back in the salad again

to live here now
lying down
living as one of the bloodless
having been down with bloodletting
having let all of the blood out
having been bled dry by leeches
having let leeches bloodlet you
lying lifeless and bloodless
you lie as you live
without life
lying lifeless and bloodless
living lifelessly
bloodlessly
bleeding without bloodshed
all blood having been shed
the shower of leeches that sucked you dry
the shower of blood that cleanses and dies
dyes you red dyeing
red lying
dead lying
bled shedding
bloodletting
shining in red
said the lecherous leech


lead
bleed
feed the red anger
drown in the shower
bathe in the blender
the sender-receiver of life
that you lie; that you dye as you bleed
as you flee like a leech
unleashed
released
deceased
insist
refuse
resist
transfuse
ooze
snooze
dream
awaken
get the lead out, let the blood out x8

(sung)
We like chickens
Tiny little chickens
Little little chickens
We want chickens
Gimme chickens
Great big chickens
I eat chickens
Cook up the chickens
Give up the chickens
I want chickens
I will hatch the chickens
Little little chickens
I eat chickens
I can't wait for chickens
Gimme eggs
Gimme chickens
I will make the chickens
Gimme little eggs
I make the chickens
Fry up the chickens
Eat up the chickens
Dip the legs in sauce
Doggin' on the chickens
Lappin' up the chickens
They are chickens
Here are little chickens

Free-range
Free-range
Free-range
Free-range
Free-range chickens

Lappin' up the chickens
Little chickens
Here are little chickens
Gimme chickens
I will eat the chickens
We like chickens
Tiny little chickens
Little little chickens
We want chicken
Gimme chicken
Great big chicken
Runnin' in the farm
I eat chickens
Cook up the chickens
Give up the eggs
I want the chickens
I will hatch the chickens
Little little chickens
I eat the chickens
I can't wait for chickens
Gimme eggs
Gimme little chickens
I will make the chicken
Gimme little eggs
Tiny little chickens
Fry up the chickens
Eat up

Free-range
Free-range
Free-range
Free-range
Free-range chickens

Doggin' on the chickens
Lappin' up the chickens

(shouted)
Damned if I know!

Fuck if I know!

Shit if I know!

Ass if I know!

Tit if I know!

Scumbag if I know!

Shit if I know!

Fuck if I know!

Asshole if I know!

Damned if I know!

Fuck if I know!

Shit if I know!

Ass if I know!

Tit if I know!

Scumbag if I know!

Shit if I know!

Fuck if I know!

Asshole if I know!

(spoken)
What a beautiful sunset tonight. What a breathtaking panorama, a potpourri of sights, sounds, smells, and a whole holy host of other sensations. It's so delightful to be here, in the outside. It's so nice not to be all cooped up like a rat in a cage, like a political prisoner, like the working poor, like the coal miner, like the cloistered nun, like the waitress in the Quality Pie, like the farm boy, like the pig in the pen, or the cow hooked up to the milking machine, or the lamb on line to the slaughterhouse, like the HIV-positive, like the inoperable cancer patients, or the soldiers who have lost their legs, like the homicidal maniac, or the suicidal depressive. Nay, I say nay, this sunset is so beautiful, this moment so sublime, that I could stand here, and watch, and be here, and callously forget all the misery in the world, and be completely and blissfully unaware of all sadness and pain and loss, at least until the sun descends. How is it that nature can be so natural? How is it that it can completely transport one away from reality when in fact it is reality? How can that be?

(shouted)
Damned if I know!

Fuck if I know!

Shit if I know!

Charles Laughton if I know!

Damned if I know!

Fuck if I know!

Shit if I know!

Charles Laughton if I know!

The air was breathing, but I nearly suffocated
In my sarcophagus
Where the antelopes wear underwear on their antlers:
On my mantle, memories recede, but cost of living
Adjustments dance the
Charleston at the Rosebud of resplendent nostalgia:

The walls are dripping, and tonight the faces are on the
Ceiling, are
They are suspiciously silent:
There was a fire tonight, when the world weary smile:
There was a pillow plummeting like invisible carbon in a
Passion play:

If this is only going from A to B and back again, how
Come when I clothes my eyes, I see bedsprings and
Excrement in deep focus:
Dirty deals that only I am privy to, elegant cobblestone
Goblets, bone
Orchard china, parsips and lichen:

Puke on me, Delores:
Are you married or lesbian, are you a celibate Buddist
Acolyte,
Or are you just detached and unavailable like me:
More to the point where are you : where were you:
I went to the high school reunion, and Delores, there was
No puke:

It's a sad lonely song by the barnyard, 'cause Delores
Ain't sick to
Her stomach no more:

I woke up this morning with a bad hangover and my penis was missing again. This happens all the time; it's detachable. This comes in handy a lot of the time; I can leave it home when it think it's gonna get me in trouble, or I can rent it out when I don't need it. But now and then I go to a party, get drunk, and the next morning, I can't, for the life of me, remember what I did with it. First I looked around my apartment, and I couldn't find it , so I called up the place where the party was, they hadn't seen it either. I asked them to check the medicine cabinet, 'cause for some reason, I leave it there sometimes, but not this time. So I told them if it pops up to let me know. I called a few people who were at the party, but they were no help either.

I was starting to get desperate I really don't like being without my penis for too long, It makes me feel like less of a man, and I really hate having to sit down every time I take a leak.

After a few hours of searching the house, and calling everyone I could think of, I was starting to get very depressed, so I went to the Kiev and ate breakfast. Then as I walked down Second Avenue, toward's St. Mark's Place, where all those people sell used books and other junk on the street, I saw my penis lying on a blanket next to a broken toaster oven-some guy was selling it! I had to buy it off him. He wanted 22 bucks, but I talked him down to 17. I took it home, washed it off, and put it back on. I was happy again: complete. People sometimes tell me I should get it permanently attached, but I don't know. Even though sometimes it's a pain in the ass, I like having a detachable penis.

She pressed the knife lightly against his left testicle and said, "Now do I have your attention?"

He yawned and said, "Yes, yes, what is it now?"

She said, "I'm gonna cut off your fucking balls."

He said, "Yes, I gathered that, but what's the subtext here? You don't really wanna cut off my balls, you want me to do something. Why don't you tell me what you want me to do?"

She said, "I want you to know what I want you to do."

As she said this, he slipped away and quickly opened the lower drawer of the endtable and pulled out the revolver. He cocked and aimed it and said, "Is this it? Is this what you want me to do? You want me to shoot you in your fuckin' ass? Turn around. I'm gonna shoot you in your fuckin' ass."

"That gun's not loaded, fuckface," she said. "I took the bullets out of it last night."

"Oh yeah?" he said. "I reloaded it this morning."

And to prove his point, he shot the television.

"You stupid fuck!" she said. "The season premiere of ER is on in five minutes. George Clooney. George Clooney. Must-see TV."

"Oh honey," he said, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, come on. We'll watch it in the living room."

"Forget it," she said. "I'm not in the mood. Maybe tomorrow."

Maybe tomorrow indeed. For aren't we all prisoners of time? Isn't everything we do done with one eye on the clock?

"Shut up," she said, "who asked you anyway? Honey, let's sell this house, it's too big. Let's sell this house, buy a trailer, put the leftover money in mutual funds, and live off the dividends for the rest of our lives."

"Sugarpie," he said, "that really ticks me off. One minute you wanna cut my balls off, then when I'm all ready you up and wanna do something different. Live in a trailer, maybe I should shoot you in the ass, you're not in the mood. You're not in the mood. Well, maybe I'm in the mood. Maybe I'm really in the mood. Maybe I'll just mosey on down to Lucy's trailer and shoot her in the ass. Have her cut off a testicle or two. How does that tickle you?"

She sat silently for almost thirty seconds and then said, "We don't live in a trailer park, stupid. You can't 'mosey on down to Lucy's trailer,' because the nearest trailer park is two hours on the interstate."

She was right, of course. The nearest trailer park was over a hundred miles away on I-90.

"I just said that!" she said. "Just shut the fuck up and let me think for a minute."

"Who are you talking to?" he asked.

"Shut up," she said, "you're driving me fucking nuts."

"Honey," he said, "let's go downstairs and watch George Clooney..."

"If you don't shut up," she said, "I will shoot the living room television just as surely as I shot the bedroom television."

"But honey!" he said. "It's the season premiere! Must-see TV! Must-see. Must-see. Besides, I shot the television."

"That's it," she said, "kiss those balls goodbye."

She deftly hacked off his balls with a few quick strokes and stuffed them into his mouth.

"Hmmmph!" he said. "Hmmmmmmmph!" he said.

She said, "He said, 'Shut up and let me eat my balls in peace.' And will you stop saying 'he said' and 'she said' in the middle of everything we say, or I'll cut your fucking balls off next."

To which I replied, "Okay. Fuck you. Fuck you both. Take that knife and shove it up your ass, you ungrateful little shits, I created you. I formed you out of nothing, like a god, I invented both of you, and all you do is fight. I sat down and took the time to write a nice little story about you two when I could've been watching ER. Go fuck yourselves! Both of you! Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck - you give and you give, and what's the point, what's the fucking point? I missed the season premiere, and - now I'll never know what happened with the thing, and the, and the - thing. And - it's all so useless and hopeless - this is a very bad day."

"Hey look," he said, "I'm sorry. You're right."

"I'm sorry too," she said. "We're both being very selfish. We didn't realize you were in such pain. Let it out. Don't hold it back. Let it out. Tell us all about it."

"Yes," he said, "you can tell us. You can trust us. You can count on us. You can fuck us and kill us."

"You really mean it?" I said. "I can tell you everything?"

"Of course!" they replied in unison, and stood there smiling their smarmy fucking smiles. So I killed them and fucked them and hacked them to bits, and then I told them everything.

Ed was at the end of his rope, an expression he detested.
"There is no rope!" he would scream at the laughing walls.
"There is only the end.

"No hope, no rope.
Ending is better than mending.
Doors of perception, windows of opportunity.
These are illusions, like the killing floor."

Ed spoke in a squeaky whiny voice
With perhaps a slight tinge of glee,
But this was only because
He couldn't be bothered to try to develop
A manner of speaking that truly reflected his mood.

"This is a vacuum. There is no air in this room.
Despair is no fun anymore.
Nihilism knocked three times on the ceiling,
But the rosy fingers of dawn always inserted themselves
In the nose of unfulfilled promises.

"Angels sang Heysanna Hosanna,
Paralyzed prima-donnas danced in the streets all day,
But when darkness came, everybody went home.

"I was ready - everyone else was asleep.
And while it may have been a relief
To see that I was right all along,
Here I am still: alone and trapped,
Awaiting the endless end.

"And I can turn it all around,
And laugh at it and laugh at myself;
I can laugh louder than the walls,
The halls, the waterfalls,
Louder than Charles de Gaul or Fulton Mall,
But I don't know what I'm laughing at,
I don't know just what I think is so goddamn funny.

"I don't know why I don't just shut up
And give up and lay down and die.
What do I have to complain about anyway,"
Ed asked his Picasso, "I'm a millionaire!"

This wasn't exactly true.
Ed's Picasso was an obvious forgery,
His three Rothkos had just been singled out
In an article in Artforum entitled,
"The three most insignificant paintings of Mark Rothko,"
And his Barbara Kruegers had been irreparably damaged
By Rein Sanction and a few other bands from Gainesville
That refused to recognize the value of art.

"Come to think of it," Ed mused to the laminated roadkill coffee table
That he had purchased when times had seemed slightly less bleak,
"Come to think of it, not only does art have no intrinsic value,
But my collection has no extrinsic value either.
I know I'm not a millionaire, but that's no reason to complain.

"There is no reason to complain.
There is no reason to do anything.
I don't believe in reason,
Objective reality, or collective farming.

"I don't believe in public speaking,
Which is another reason why I'm here alone.
I don't believe in life or death, I would kill myself,
But I don't believe in suicide."

Ed put on a red shirt and took a quick walk around the block
While whistling softly to himself.

He reentered his apartment screaming,
"There is no life on this planet!
Jehovah-One replaced all life with machinery five centuries ago.
The so-called industrial revolution was just another hoax
And we all fell for it, 'cause we were all programmed to.
Even I fell for it. I believe in the steam engine,
Even though I don't believe in anything.

"Logical inconsistency is the Mr. Bubble I bathe in
Each and every evening, except for yesterday evening,
When I rollerbladed over to the Masonic temple
To play pinochle with Pope John Paul the First.
"I really had no choice in the matter."

"Ed certainly could go on and on, and he did,
And he would, and he will,
Until you or I or somebody does something about it,"
Senator Sterno of Louisiana announced
Over closed circuit television.

"And as long as he continues to pontificate pointlessly,
I will do nothing."

Ed walked away from the program feeling fortified and stapled.
His brain was buzzing, the way it always did just after Jeopardy.
He loaded up the microbus with atlases and poseidons
And headed for Pope county.
"I've had it."

He sang, "I've had it with puns, alliteration,
Russian literature, Italian neorealism,
meaningless cross references and laundry lists of nonsense.
I shall dive without a license, without clothing,
Without direction and if I make it to Arkansas, fine,
And if I'm running late, if I'm running a numbers game,
It doesn't matter, I shall keep on running.

"Yes, this is the answer. This is the ending,
I shall keep on running, because a body in motion
Tends to stay emotional, and it's better to feel.
Pain is better than emptiness,
Emptiness is better than nothing,
And nothing is better than this."

Hey hey look at me
Hey hey I'm Phillip Glass
Hey look at me over here hey

Hey hey Einstein
Hey get off the beach
Hey einstein hey hey
Look hey hey

I'm Nixon in China
Heh heh heh heh
Hey hey

In this happy sing-song hell hole
In this torture house of glee
In this perfect playpen prison
There's so much to do and see

On this euthanasia morning
Colorful carnival of pain
Let us drink delicious poison
If they won't let us
Let's complain

Genetic engineers
Crucified our sacred hymns
While flesh fell off our bodies
And we lost our limbs

I don't know why
I'm always inclined
To end on a happy note
Though the point may be mute
Like a ten year old boy
With his throat
And his dreams
Ripped out by wolves

It's so beautiful here
The swallows are swinging and swaying
Sweetly tweeting in the fruit trees
Sparrows hip hop into my hands
And somehow I hold them and gently pet their wings
Why does this happen here? Now?

I was in tears yesterday
Tattered and near lifeless
Have I died and passed into the after world?
I must have, this is heaven
How did I get here?

Let me retrace my steps
What happened yesterday?
I was in tears, near lifeless
Something sad must have happened but what?
What was I crying about?
Is it over? Is it okay now?
Who am I talking to? What's going on?

Oh no, now the sparrow is broken and mangled in my bloody hands
This is so awful
Giant flying insects are crawling all over me
Biting and laughing
This is even worse than being alive
This is worse than being alive
Even worse than being alive

I hate this

No, I never was in Vietnam
I never once dove into an empty swimming pool
I never let the carpet walk right out from under me
I never painted a house or a tree

I never did become an exotic dancer
Or a customer service representative
I never took the pulse of a dying duck
Or gave mouth to mouth resuscitation to a horsefly

In a way I s'pose you could say
My experience is quite limited

For example, I never locked Oliver Cromwell in a broom closet
While singing Waltzing Matilda
I never sawed a television in half
Although I once saw Wendy O'Williams saw a guitar

I never played a decent game of jacks
I never played poker with a toothless one eyed pirate
Who kept picking his teeth with a bowie knife
To distract me while his parrot looked over my shoulder
And told him what cards I had
By using an elaborate code involving
Vomiting, chirping and sea shanties

I never bought a lamp
Wait I did buy a lamp once
But I never bought a lantern or a lambskin prophylactic

I never bought lima beans or lime pudding
I never bought a lion or a Lionel Richie album
I never bought anything beginning with the letter "L"
Except lollipops, lightbulbs and lettuce...and the lamp

I never laid down for a nap
And found the Everly brothers in bed with me
I never let a cyborg take out the garbage

I'm sorry I stole the radio
I did it
I sawed the legs off the periodic table
I re-elected the President

I did it, it was my fault
I farted in the church
I'm sorry I did many many bad things
And I am so sorry

I want to be different, like everybody else
I want to be like
I want to be just like all the different people

I have no further interest in being the same
Because I have seen difference all around
And now I know that that's what I want

I don't want to blend in and be indistinguishable
I want to be a part of the different crowd
And assert my individuality along with the others
Who are different like me

I don't want to be identical to anyone or anything
I don't even want to be identical to myself
I want to look in the mirror and wonder
"Who is that person? I've never seen that person before
I've never seen anyone like that before."

I want to call into question the very idea
That identity can be attached
I want a floating, shifting, ever changing persona
Invisibility and obscurity
Detachment from the ego and all of its pursuits

Unity is useless
Comformity is competitive and divisive
And leads only to stagnation and death

If what I'm saying doesn't make any sense
That's because sense can not be made
It's something that must be sensed

And I, for one, am incensed by all this complacency
Why oppose war only when there's a war?
Why defend the clinics only when they're attacked?
Why are we always reactive?

Let's activate something
Let's fuck shit up
Whatever happened to revolution for the hell of it?
Whatever happened to protesting nothing in particular
Just protesting 'cause it's Saturday
And there's nothing else to do?

(spoken)
A lot of people have said Giuliani did a great job with the crisis, and I-I don't know, and a lot of people are saying that Bush is doing a good job, and I really don't think so, but in all this discussion, no one has stepped forward to say what a truly remarkable job Jennifer Love Hewitt has been doing. She has shown unbelievable restraint during this entire crisis. I haven't heard her say a single irresponsible word. So many people have rushed to get on the television and say stupid, fucked-up, crazy shit, but not JLH. I haven't seen her on television at all since this crisis began. It is very rare to see such restraint from public figures these days, so I'd like to take this moment to say: Thank you, Jennifer Love Hewitt. Thank you for your brave and steadfast silence. Thank you for respecting the American people in a way that very few people have. Thank you, Jennifer.

I will slur
And heel
And hem
And haw
I will eat a monkey paw

When you call me up and command me
To come over to your house
For sex and tea biscuits
I shall clandestinely drop my cumberbund
Down the dumbwaiter chute

Lutes will serenade us like liquid lemonade
You will glisten like newborn snow
And I will listen
Like a clairvoyant nipple clamp

It will be sex like nobody has ever had it before
In the history of postmodern lovemaking
It will be sex, even if it isn't
It will be sex, even if only in theory
Even if it's only pantomine
Even if it's just a memory
Or a dream
Or a symphonic approximation

After a summer of autonomous sodomy
And National Geographic specials
About the pretty animals
That use other animals as food by eating them
On television

But we shouldn't even watch television
We should just have sex
Epoch making
Earth shaking
Teeth chattering
Dish clattering
Fish frying
Eye popping
Never stopping
Bunny hopping
Toe tapping
Joseph Papping sex

Shakespeare in the park kinda sex
D train ride to Coney Island vacation kinda sex
Clandestine in the airplane lavatory kind of sex
Olympic marathon sex

All the different ways that we feel like having sex
We should
Until we grow old and bored and disillusioned
Then let us rekindle our feelings
Forget our despair and our celibate nonsense
And do it like bunnyrats till the cows come home to roost

So call me sometime
And let's have sex

A narrative framework
Another break with illusion
A cognitive fallacy
Imaginary reality
These are all lies
These are all lies
Nocturnal emission
Fraternal incision
Internal submission
Eternal division
All of this fakery
Artifice, trickery
Phoniness, fakery
Artificial, artificial
Taking it easy
This could be all there is
Taking it easy
Maybe it comes too soon
May never happen again
Saying it's all for nothing
May never get there again
May never happen again
Typical, typical
Typographical hypodermic
Demographic epilogues
Illogical dialogues
Biological monologue
Obsolete novelty
Original replicas
Typical typical
These are all lies

Bassinets, clarinets
Proletarian chariots
Polyunsaturated cinemaplexi
Glass cathedrals

Anxious daffodils
Falling off the window sill
But better still a sleeping pill
L-tryptophan's illegal

Squirming, unlearning
Swirling in a cloud of unknowing
Silence, violence
Swirling in a cloud of unknowing

Hellacool swimming pools
Corporate tools, vestibules
Herring bones, monotones
Macrocosmic snowcones

Stroking the ego
Wrapping it up in swaddling clothes
Anointing it with aluminum foil

Squirming, unlearning
Twirling in a clowd of unknowing
Silence, violence
Twirling in a clowd of unknowing

Aluminum siding salesmen
Drowning in a sea of alliteration
Relentlessly searching for
Non-existent clarity

Big fat bluffin'
Anguished muffin
Bad Brain H.R. Puffinstuffin

Dirty socks
Onobox
Goldilocks and cream cheese

Drunken boat, billy goat
Trapped in Annette Funicello
Full of fish and roses and the posies

Squirming, unlearning
Pudding in a cloud of unknowing
Silence, violence
Pudding in a cloud of unknowing

Quantum plumbing, the pineal gland
The sixth chakra, the seventh seal
Enveloping pelicans pecking at the crumbs
Of enlightenment
Retrograde planets plunging into the arms of America

I Wish I had a story to tell
I Wish I knew the story of the cardboard man,
Or the Talking filmcanister, Or the Spoon that Moved
I Wish I knew the one about the wise guru
Or the honest Lizard
I wish I knew about the dog that dressed like a cat,
Or the mule that walked like rock
Or the tornado who swam like a statue of Carmen Miranda
I Wish I knew all these stories or had the inclination to make them up
I Wish I could sit on soft pillows and drink molten lava
I Wish I could make love to the sky
I Wish I could eat the corn of Joy and Sorrow
I Wish the sky was green and my body was bright blue
I Wish I could talk sideways and backwards
I Wish I could drive the tractor of Innocence and return the the life I never
knew
I Wish I could drink chocolate champaigne
I Wish I had that Fax Number
I Wish I nothing could mean something and that everbody could have everything


Some wishes come true
Some of this wishes will come true
Others, are destined to become dreams deferred,
Shriveling up like grapes with sun tans,
But all is not lost,
No, all is not lost, not yet
I Wish I had 3 eyes, but of course, I have 3 eyes
I have clavoyant paranoia
I have precogant disetence
I have many other ways of seeing at my disposal
I have a garbage disposal, dinner plans and dog bisquets
I have many many options and a strong sense that freedom comes with in
But I shall never find it
Freedom is lost, Failure is just around the corner and the only thing that
Consoles me is the sound of my voice, and the fact that I don't cut myself
Shaving as I used too

I don't know what it is
That is or isn't inside me
That gives me that empty feeling inside of me

A voice said to put it all down
Pretend that it's all just a lie
When the lamb and lion lay down

Side by side
Pigs will fly
Little one
Pigs will fly

I don't know what it is
That gives me that empty feeling
A feeling that can't be filled
With sex, food or coffee

But one thing I know
There is blood in the sky
When the lamb and the lion lay down
Side by side, pigs will fly

I see not, I say not
I cannot say why
I say not, I see not
I cannot say why

There is blood in the sky
There is mud in my eye

My body's been altared
Drawn and quartered
A shower-the shower saved me
Saved me cut me bled me
Dead me, I would've been
Like as if it could've been
Oh, it never should've been
But why, I don't know
On the darkness, of the depth
And the blood and the body
Oh so badly shaken up
Like nothing I ever
And never you know
I cannot, I can't
Just give me some water to drown myself clean
Like I never have been
But I am
I cared and I stared
And I melted and cracked
And I never felt stronger than this I swear

If I could I would blaspheme my way to you
Just give me the courage and the glossary
Let me turn my own words against me
And perish in the process
Let my obsolescence blossom and propagate
Until every inkling of me passes away
Passes along, passes on

Holy holy holy all is holy in the sink
In the sink all is holy holy holy
Down the sink holy holy sinking down
Holy sinking down the hole down the sink
Holy holy sinking holy holy down holy sinking
Sinking down the hole holy holy

All is holy all is holy down the sink
In the sink all is holy all is holy
In the hole down the hole holy sinking
All is holy in the sink sinking down the holy

Sinking all is sinking down the hole
Holy sinking sinking down the hole
Sink sink sink sink sink sinking down the holy
Down holy sinking down the sink

Sinking holy down the sink holy holy holy sinking
All sinking down the hole
Holy holy all is sinking all is sinking
All is sinking sink sink sink sink
Sink sink sink sink sink sink

Somehow we drifted off too far
Communicate like distant stars
Splintered voices down the phone
The sunlit dust, the smell of roses drifts, oh no
Someone waits behind the door
Hiroshima Mon Amour

Riding inter-city trains
Dressed in European gray
Riding out to echo beach
A million memories in the trees and sands, oh no
How can I ever let them go?
Hiroshima Mon Amour

Meet beneath the autumn lake
Where only echoes penetrate
Walk through Polaroids of the past
Future's fused like shattered glass, the sun's so low
Turns our silhouettes to gold
Hiroshima Mon Amour

Take me home, take me home
Take me home and throw me down
Take me home, take me home
Take me home and tie me up

'Cause you're the one my body's been waiting aching for
You're the one I need in my darkest hour
You're the one who knows what a hypocrite I am
You're the one who knows my life is a pathetic sham

Take me home, take me home
Take me home and tie me up
Take me home, take me home
Take me home, and spit in my face

Take me home, take me home
Take me home and kick me hard
'Cause you're the one I trust enough
You're the one I trust enough to hurt me

You're the only one
I want you to give me what I deserve
You're the only one I trust
And the only one who can hurt

Lately, I've seen red
I've tasted blood
I've killed with words
I've wished and hoped and
Swam through a river of snot
Twice as wide as the mighty Mississippi

But I wanna know
About the commercial I saw on TV
An Irish guy
Walking through a field of green
Whistling one of those Irish jigs
And a woman walks up and says,
"Manly yes, but I like it too."

Then the guy pulls out a huge knife
And cuts off his first two fingers
And somehow catches them
In what's left of his left hand
And hands them to the woman
Did I mention they're both dressed in green?

Then they both sing this song together
"Are ya icky? Are ya sticky?
Are ya hot as anything?
Hey cut off two of your fingers
And stab yourself in the eye!"

Then he stabs himself in the eye
And hands her the knife
And she stabs herself in the eye
Okay? okay? so what about that?

Then they join arms
And do this Irish folk dance
While taking turns dismembering each other
This was a commercial for deodorant, I think
Or soap or something

So now all the body parts
Are lying in a heap
But the heads are still singing
"Are ya icky? Are ya sticky?
Are ya hot as anything?
Hey! get away from summer
And cut off all your limbs!"

Then all of the body parts
Start hopping and bopping around
Like little bunny rats
Then they jump into the mouths of the singing heads
But then they just slip right back out
Through the severed necks and keep bopping about

It's very beautiful music that's playing
There's an Irish flute
And a mandolin, I think
And the background singers sound
Just like the Clancy brothers

It's really a wonderful commercial
Spectacular
It must've cost a fortune to make

The kind of commercial you'd see
During the Super Bowl, maybe
Where the advertising time costs
A million dollars a half a minute
Wow, imagine that
A million dollars for a half a minute!

Anyway, by the end of it
It looks like the two of them
Have been through a juicer
Or a food processor
Or a blender or something
It's just a pink puree of blood, bone and flesh in a big bucket
But it's still singing somehow
"Are ya icky? Are ya sticky?
Are ya hot as anything?
Hey! Blend yourself, process yourself
Become a glass of animal juice!"

"Haven't you had enough
Of fruit juices and vegetable juices?
Next time company comes over
Offer them a cool refreshing glass of yourself!
Give of yourself
Stop being such a selfish piece of snot
Okay? Okay? Okay!"

"And now, back to our program."

He looked late 30's, maybe mid 30's
Tall, maybe six feet
I saw him in the Guatemalan clothing place
He was thin and hungry
They sold jewelry there too
I noticed some bracelets with Sanskrit writing on them
I think the woman behind the counder was Indian
Not American Indian, Indian Indian
She had a weird smile on her face as I walked in

I was looking at the bracelets
He said he was looking for work
He said, "I applied for work as a dishwasher
As a dishwasher
As a...dishwasher
As a dishwasher over at the hotel
I'll find out tomorow, but if they don't
There is six other places looking for dishwashers

She is smiling at him
And I'm realizing now hours later
She didnt know him
He says "See ya" and leaves
And I'm still looking at stuff

She looks real nervous
She's not Indian, too light skinned maybe
I don't know
But she didn't speak English very well
But he says "See ya" and I'm looking at stuff

I'm realizing now hours later she didn't
She didn't know him
She was just going along with him
And he was obviously not a customer either
Because he said he was looking for work

He applied for work as a dishwasher
As a dishwasher
As a dishwasher
They don't make a lot of money

Something was going on, he was desperate maybe
He went in there to try to sell something
No, I think he was trying to distract her
So he could maybe take something

He was thin and hungry and desperate
I mean he obviosly wasn't a customer
But I didn't figure it out 'til later after the movie

I'm walking back and I'm playing the movie back in my head
I'm playing the scene back in my head in the store

He looked late 30's, maybe mid 30's
Maybe six feet in the Guatemalan clothing place
They sold bracelets with Sanskrit writng on them
The woman looked light skinned
She didn't speak English very well

I should have done someting
I should have realized
I should have paid attention
I should have been awake

He told her he was looking for work as a dishwasher
As a dishwasher
As a...dishwasher

I didn't really get a good look at him
He looked like a dishwasher
I believed him

But, now I think he was lying
I think he took something
She seemed real nervous

I should have done something
I didn't know
I wish I had done something
I didn't know

Is she all right?
Do you think he...?
Did she identify him?
If she's dead now, how did you get my name?

I don't know any dishwashers
No, I never was in Vietnam
She definitely wasn't Vietnamese

Is she dead?
Do you think he...?
He looked late 30's
I think he stole something
Do you think he killed her?

He looked late 30's, maybe mid 30's
Tall, maybe 6 feet
I saw him in the Guatemalan clothing place
He was thin and hungry
They sold jewelry there too
I noticed some bracelets with Sanskrit writing on them

I think the woman behind the counter
Looked like she was Indian
Not American Indian, Indian Indian
She had a weird smile on her face as I walked in

I was looking at the bracelets
He said he was looking for work
Said "I applied for work as a dishwasher
As a dishwasher
As a dishwasher
As a dishwasher"

And so the very evil children took the dog out to play in the park
Then they took him home and refused to set him on fire
They were evil evil evil children

And they refused to do as they were told
They would say,
"Why should we leave the elderly woman in the expressway?"
"No way, we're not doing it."

Then they would go downstairs
And prepare the Molotov cocktails
Knowing full well that when they were finished
There was no way in hell they were going to blow up the neighbor's barn
They were evil evil evil children

Sometimes in other lives
People expected them to do bad

(spoken)
Your father fucked your mother. At least once, your father and your mother were in bed, and your father got a hard-on, and he stuck it inside your mother and they fucked. Sometimes maybe your father fucked your mother in the ass, and maybe on the night that you were conceived maybe they did that, before or after, or maybe they didn't, maybe your father never fucked your mother's ass, but on the night that you were conceived, one thing is certain: your father fucked your mother in her cunt.

Maybe your mother sucked your father's dick first, and maybe your father ate your mother's pussy. Maybe your father sucked your mother's clit while sticking a finger or two up your mother's slit until she got really wet. Maybe he got his whole hand up there. If you have older brothers or sisters, then your father probably could have gotten his whole hand up there. If not, then maybe not. But at some point, your mother was wet and loose enough to accommodate your father, and they fucked.

Maybe they did it doggy-style. Maybe your mother got on top of your father. Maybe your parents liked to talk dirty to each other when they were fucking.

Maybe your mother screamed, "Oh daddy. Oh daddy. Fuck me, daddy, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," and then maybe your daddy shouted, "Here it comes! Here it comes! Get ready, bitch, here I come," and then maybe your mother said, "Come in me, come in me, come in me! Oh yeah, baby, fuck your mommy, fuck your momma's sweet pussy, oh yeah, daddy, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah."

Or maybe they were very quiet.

But at any rate, eventually your father came and his sperm shot out of his dick and it went up your mother's cunt and it fertilized her egg and that was you. That was you in your mother's womb, growing like a virus for nine months, making your mother fatter and fatter, making her sick, making her vomit, making her hate your father for doing this to her, making her hate you, this thing inside of her, like a virus, growing and sucking, like a leech attached to her, sucking her blood, drinking her like a vampire fetus, growing and sucking and growing and sucking until one day you want out, and you burst through the snotty membrane and you pop out of your mother's cunt all covered with blood, and a bloody umbilical cord still attaches you to the inside of your mother somewhere 'til someone snips it off and you are severed. You are a separate being.

This is the miracle of childbirth. To some, it is proof that there is a God.

Now after you were born, maybe you sucked milk out of your mother's tit. Maybe your father wiped the shit off your shitty ass. I don't know. You'll have to ask them. But that is basically the way people are born. In a nutshell, that is it. Unless you were a test tube baby, which you weren't, so just face it: your father fucked your mother, and the next time you're fucking somebody, just try to keep that in mind.

(sung ad-libs, including the following)
Miracle
Miracle

Fuck me, daddy, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me

Here I come
Here I come
Get ready, bitch, here I come

Miracle
Miracle
Miracle
Miracle
Miracle

Oh daddy, oh daddy, oh daddy, oh daddy, oh daddy, oh daddy

Miracle

The people here
Are so hospitable
They have given me their best blanket
And such soft pillows
They are so kind
I am crying
And i think it is violently rude of them
To make me feel so guilty
I barely know them
And yet here they are
Extending every courtesy,
And being so caring
And so considerate
That I just want to burn their house down
Right now
While they are sleeping

There was somebody else's tongue in my mouth (3x)
And I don't know where it came from
There was somebody else's hand on my tongue (3x)
And now my mouth is missing

Somebody should shut me up
Somebody better shut me up that's for sure
Somebody should shut my white ass up,
Sure a chicken fried steak

There was somebody else's fist on my throat (3x)
And I sure better learn how to rhumba

One day
What if one day
What if I said
I wish I was a tree
And then, suddenly,
I was a tree
Then could I wish myself back?
No, trees can't wish.
What if I wished I was a wishing tree,
A tree that could wish?
What if i wished I was a toilet bowl,
And then I was one, and the wind
changed and I stayed that way?
Or what if I wished I was a toilet bowl
And suddenly I was a tree!
Would I be able to say,
"Hey! I wanted to be a toilet bowl, not a tree?"
No, I wouldn't be able to say that,
Because trees can't talk
They don't have mouths.
I would have to have the foresight to say,
"I wish I was a toilet,
But if by some chance I'm turned into a tree instead,
I wish to be a tree with
a mouth that can wish to be
changed back into a human being!"
Because I'd only ever want to be a toilet or a tree for a
very brief
period of time.
I guess this is the exact reason why they always say you
should be very
careful what you wish for.

If most of us were wind up-toys
Could we trust the few of us that weren't
To wind us up when necessary?
I think not
We would be a separate oppressed minority
Even if we were in the majority
It would still be that way

The ones that weren't wind-up toys
Would have the upper hand
And we would have to look out for each other


Because they wouldn't

They would only wind up those that they saw fit
Those that conformed to their ways

If most of us were wind-up toys
It would be in our interest
To learn to wind ourselves up
Or wind each other up
That's reality
That's the way it is