PLASTERED – SUPERIMPOSED – LOUD AS BOMBS
Ain’t no beauty in what you do.
Ain’t no one in the audience loving the i’s behind the eyes.
Alas, the noses continue to accuse,
And oh man, they know what to do.
Cameraman, have a taste of the forbidden fruit.
Who loves you now?
–
(A little of the ultraviolent tonight, my droogs?)
SHOW TONIGHT – BRIGHT LIGHTS AND EARTHLY DELIGHTS – NO SMOKING
Telephoto baby baby
Table the obscene, the precipice, yeah they dig it, dig it.
Anyway, any-who, any-what,
The rug looks so much dirtier up close, sweetheart.
In and out, twist and shout
Come on locomotor helter-skelter telephoto baby baby
Who loves you now?
(Real horrorshow, little devotchka. Real horrorshow)
–
THREE SHEETS TO THE WIND – TWO TO THE SAILORS – ONE TO THE SEA
Were you too young to know? I wonder.
When they pulled tongues and prodded corners.
I wonder, were you thinking
When mummy didn’t give and daddy had his fun
But baby had to live and baby had a gun
Half-a-loving and half-a-living was half a life at least.
I wonder what you think you know.
I wonder who or what you love.
Bang bang. How loudly do the shuttereyes blink?
