Gnawing on her knuckles while the woman was a walkin’,
only an eel skin bound around her own one.
Too many steps she kept a foot-fallin’,
A momentary glare from the ice on the street.
Baby blue heaven, don’t get around much,
sweet little angel, she was shot out of the sky.
You better take a wrap dear,
this cold will be the death of you.
Wrap The Little ones tight and tuck in their tails,
Swallowed down the river mouth, he’s well on his way
Cups her hands and splashes her face.
Disturbed by sleep, only when she’s awake.
Shed us your skirt and give us a kiss dear,
(I’m constantly amazed at how easily the skin peels)
Drop it on a floor in heap with the others,
we’re hot buttered snakes a-swimmin’ in the flash fry.
Weighed her options on an opium scale,
she was pushed and pulled and lulled and punctured.
Beating on her chest, she was pounding out a rhythm,
the neoprene nose it nodded in agreement.
One by one shooting monkeys in a barrel.
Shot by YouTube user thejacksaints
German translation and phoned in performance by our friend Daniel in Frankfurt.
Smooth grinding of the miles, a stained-glass look at broken land.
Friction in the cylinders, a throttle blast of sun-burned sand.
Heat through you, my love, Irma shaking in my hands.
Drunken dogs in uniforms, hang under their cigarettes.
Bolt Breaks, Sidecar, over the cliff, Free flight, Earthbound…
The ground’s so near, it’s so clear.
At the Chameleon in San Francisco, CA. (Date on video is wrong. Sorry!)