Thoughts, jerky and chaotic, wrench one round,
Until one calls an Emergency...the siren blares, parts traffic.
We slept in duffel coats and mitts.
You faced the wall, like one forgotten and not caring.
Buses whistled as they passed into eternity.
Darling, confess you stole your courage from your heroes, Joan of Arc...
Now, you are sorry, you should have stayed in bed,
Sunk into the sheers, a quagmire of unconscious realms,
Met your own Chowder Powder, sang a duet....Please RELEASE me.
They'll be no need for un umbrella,
Of course faithfulness is difficult
In this age of multiple annoyances,
Where sorrow can be seen falling backwards.
Its pale hands flying out.
Like ones who never understood.
Let us sink into the trivial,
Its wide wandering bottom, like warm mud,
Soothes the backside, tightens up the pores.
Soon you will be ready once again, for Lights @ Action !
P.S...Then I went to Germany, then I went to New York, then I went to Sarajevo, then, later, after the civil war, I come here, to Toronto or Edmonton...I do not remember exactly the name of the city.
Or maybe I am confusing memories of the name of my own home town. Or just somewhere I heard. I am sorry, but I'm just trying to give you the facts.
For many years I was Yugoslavian...Now I'm not American; I'm Canadian!
Now am I English?...They had the product. They had the money. They supply gin, whisky, beer, vodka...They were beautiful. It would have torn your heart out to see the parties they had, they were so beautiful. The men in their suits and hats, the women with their hair and dresses...
And the PROTOCOL...That's where you'll end up!
All of you BUMS! You will wind up fried in the chair!
There was peppermint on my breath.
Until one calls an Emergency...the siren blares, parts traffic.
We slept in duffel coats and mitts.
You faced the wall, like one forgotten and not caring.
Buses whistled as they passed into eternity.
Darling, confess you stole your courage from your heroes, Joan of Arc...
Now, you are sorry, you should have stayed in bed,
Sunk into the sheers, a quagmire of unconscious realms,
Met your own Chowder Powder, sang a duet....Please RELEASE me.
They'll be no need for un umbrella,
Of course faithfulness is difficult
In this age of multiple annoyances,
Where sorrow can be seen falling backwards.
Its pale hands flying out.
Like ones who never understood.
Let us sink into the trivial,
Its wide wandering bottom, like warm mud,
Soothes the backside, tightens up the pores.
Soon you will be ready once again, for Lights @ Action !
P.S...Then I went to Germany, then I went to New York, then I went to Sarajevo, then, later, after the civil war, I come here, to Toronto or Edmonton...I do not remember exactly the name of the city.
Or maybe I am confusing memories of the name of my own home town. Or just somewhere I heard. I am sorry, but I'm just trying to give you the facts.
For many years I was Yugoslavian...Now I'm not American; I'm Canadian!
Now am I English?...They had the product. They had the money. They supply gin, whisky, beer, vodka...They were beautiful. It would have torn your heart out to see the parties they had, they were so beautiful. The men in their suits and hats, the women with their hair and dresses...
And the PROTOCOL...That's where you'll end up!
All of you BUMS! You will wind up fried in the chair!
There was peppermint on my breath.
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