SDSS1416+13B (Zercon, A Flagpole Sitter)

歌詞

This is my job, I don't come around and put out your red light when you work. Silence What's the matter, didn't you get enough attention at home? Silence If shit were music, you'd be a brass band. Silence Know what? You should get an agent, why sit in the dark handling yourself. For Lavinia who goes like gynozoon. IX IV IX III V I For the citizen whose joke lays in their hand. I V I V IX IX III To play fugues on Jove's Spam castanets. V IX IX I VI IX I Cattle are slaughtered, Entrails examined, spread out across the moon. The Tisza is rising, topless bars overflowing, pulsing through the flumes. Drop-kicked coloraturas fouling my ears, bypassing an anorexic sky and- -scar jumping grafters, chorion-crying. How can you stoop so high? For Papiria who plops the Pantheon. IV VI IX V I IX I For grosse Gauls who won't leave our sheep alone. V I VII IX I IX I Norsemen! DO NOT! eat the big pink mint. Flush hard, it's a long way to Athens. Gone from your wooden palace. The wild mice pelt clothes slipped from my toes where termites scribble the walls. Twisted forth, and gone, 'Little father', The 'snip' off your nine-ninety-nine, from where you groomed yourself too small. No more dragging this wormy anus round on shag piles from Persia to Thrace. I've severed my reeking gonads, fed them to your shrunken face. Janus head it's said, will give good door. IX IX V IX I IX I For a Roman who's proof that Greeks fucked bears. V V IX VII V IV I Heard this one? This'll kill ya, about the ropes of hair care of Venus the Bald tugging Mercs across the plain. Those measuring road-rashed bellies a perte de vue to me night and day. The one about the saint stranded high upon his pillar. Thirty summers, Thirty winters, his constant visitor, his mother. But he'd stare into the distance, ignored her calls from down below...... "DID YOU EVER THROW YOUR OWN MOTHER'S FOOD BACK AT HER?!" "DID YOU EVER TELL HER, TAKE THIS JUNK AWAY?!" "WHAT KIND OF UNNATURAL SON WOULD DO THAT TO HIS OWN MOTHER?!" .....The tasteless one about the bantam who couldn't climb a rung. Your Helipolis is scrapheap. Gone, the brown slug of your tongue. For eunuch Ron who sleeps at night across the emperor's bedroom door. III V IX IX I V I Grostulating-Gorbi requires fresh packing. II IX V I IV IX I OVER, it's over, Syrinx screaming all around, BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! Aquil-Aetos! Aquil-Aetos! screaming all around, Filling up my life, screaming all around. BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! OVER, it's over, your Nibelung can't be found. Their shadowless shadows, wiping me Wiping me clean away. BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! Where's; the scent of pine torches, the lumbering caravans, the felt covered wagons, moving like galleons? The ‘wedgie', the ‘melvy' to threaten the air? Only fledge muffled long hollow bone-drums a beating. The dark day behind us, the dark day ahead the wind drone across skull goblets. THEN, Basel-cum-Strasbourg-cum-Frankfurt-cum- Speyer-cum.............. I hear the only place you're ever invited is outside. Silence If brains were rain, you'd surely be a desert. Silence Look, don't go to a mind reader, go to a palmist; I know you've got a palm. Silence Does your face hurt? cuz it's killing me. CUT; to Lost Lumbago City. I am perched against the sky. A banner shoal of sparrows sways in the twilight. Down there, as ish kabibbles schlepp the shade forever, earth's hoary fontenelle weeps softly for a thumb thrust. A chorus of threadbare black-stockinged legs is fanning out into a frazzled black rose. No phalanxes fleeing like zippers of blood, red plumes nodding between the horses' ears. HEY BUDDY! GIVE IT UP! HEY PAL! COME DOWN! JOIN THE LIVING! WANTED! A LISPING, HOBBLING, NOSELESS RUNT. Phone IX IX IX IX IX IX I. REMEMBER: ‘SOMEDAY YOU'LL GO FAR IF YOU CATCH THE RIGHT TRAIN'? HOW ABOUT, ‘YOU'RE SO FAT, WHEN YOU WEAR A YELLOW RAINCOAT, PEOPLE SCREAM TAXI?' THEN THERE'S, ‘YOU'RE SO BORING THAT YOU CAN'T EVEN ENTERTAIN DOUBT'. I'll grease this pole behind me. Grease this pole behind me. Grease this pole. Grease this pole. There's an unfinished rumour doing the rounds. It seems the storks are seen returning to the rooftops. Carrying back their children. Clacking like dried palms. Loud enough to be heard from Reims to Orleans. River banks are cleared. Bridges retaken. Oblivion, driven from the city street by street. So why have screams of laughter, the pissing stench of mares-milk beer come to bait your toad down from his toadstool? And if I'm melancholic. And if I shed a tear..... ‘Don't forget to blink, lest your eyeballs dry up, fall out of their sockets and dangle on your cheeks like Caesar's shrivelled coglione'. .....it's when I hear a sawed-off coffin rolls beneath the Tisza HEY BAR! Ah, my noblest music. HEY! BAR! BAR! BAR! HEY BAR! BAR! BAR! BAR! I'll grease this pole behind me. Grease this pole behind me. Grease this pole.... Grease this po.... OVER, it's over, but where's the electrons squeezing all around? Burning up my life. Squeezing all around. OVER, it's over, Only freezing all around. I greased that pole behind me. Greased that pole behind me. Your Nibelung can't be found. I've looked high and low for you, I guess I didn't look low enough. Don't move: I want to forget you just the way you are. I really hope your face clears up. You know; I think you've got nothing there. Infrared, infrared. I could drop into the darkness. It's so cold, Infrared. What if I freeze, and drop into the darkness?