Plastic Pattern People

歌詞

Glad to get high and see the slow motion world. Just to reach, and touch, the half notes floating. Worlds spinning orbit quicker than 9/8ths . We come now, frantically searching for Thomas Moore, rainbow villages. Up on suddenly, and our man , to add bass, to a bottomless pit of insecurity. You may be plastic because you never meditate, about the bottom of glasses, The third side of your universe. Add on and her cosmic strains. Still no vocal on blue black horizons. Your plasticity is tested by a formless assault. The sun can answer questions in tune, to all your sacrifices. But why would our new jazz age give us no more mind expanding puzzles? Enter . Blow from under, always, and never, so that the morning, the sun, may scream of brain bending saxophones. The third world arrives, with , and . With oboes straining to touch the core of your unknown soul. comes, with strings attached, prepared to stabilize your seventh sense, Your black rhythm. Up and down a silly ladder run the notes, without the words. Words are important for the mind, but the notes are for the soul. , So what? , , Mercy. , One Flight Up. , playing Cristo, but what about words? Would you like to survive on sadness? Call on and Jose Happiness. Drift with , Bill Medley, , and . Soul music where frustrations are washed by drums, and . Congo, Mongo, Beat me, senseless, bongo, Tonto. Flash through dream worlds of STP and LSD. Speed kills and sometimes musics call, is frustrated. And the black man is confused. Our speed is our life pace, much too fast, not good. I beg you to escape, and live, and hear all of the real. Until a call comes for you to cry elsewhere. We must all cry, but tell me. Must our tears be white?