Babelogue
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I haven't fucked much with the past, but I've fucked plenty with the future.
Over the skin of silk are scars from the splinters of stations and walls I've caressed.
A stage is like each bolt of wood, like a log of Helen, is my pleasure.
I would measure the success of a night by the way by the way by the amount of piss and seed I could exude over the columns that
nestled the P.A.
Some nights I'd surprise everybody by skipping off with a skirt of green net sewed over with flat metallic circles which dazzled and
flashed.
The lights were violet and white. I had an ornamental veil, but I couldn't bear to use it.
When my hair was cropped, I craved covering, but now my hair itself is a veil, and the scalp inside is a scalp of a crazy and sleepy
Comanche lies beneath this netting of the skin.
I wake up. I am lying peacefully I am lying peacefully and my knees are open to the sun.
I desire him, and he is absolutely ready to seize me. In heart I am a Moslem; in heart I am an American;
In heart I am Moslem, in heart I'm an American artist, and I have no guilt.
I seek pleasure. I seek the nerves under your skin.
The narrow archway; the layers; the scroll of ancient lettuce.
We worship the flaw, the belly, the belly, the mole on the belly of an exquisite whore.
He spared the child and spoiled the rod. I have not sold myself to God.
Rock'N'Roll Nigger
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Baby was a black sheep. Baby was a whore.
Baby got big and baby get bigger.
Baby get something. Baby get more.
Baby, baby, baby was a rock-and-roll nigger.
Oh, look around you, all around you,
riding on a copper wave.
Do you like the world around you?
Are you ready to behave?
Outside of society, they're waitin' for me.
Outside of society, that's where I want to be.
(Lenny!)
Baby was a black sheep. Baby was a whore.
You know she got big. Well, she's gonna get bigger.
Baby got a hand; got a finger on the trigger.
Baby, baby, baby is a rock-and-roll nigger.
Outside of society, that's where I want to be.
Outside of society, they're waitin' for me.
(those who have suffered, understand suffering,
and thereby extend their hand
the storm that brings harm
also makes fertile
blessed is the grass
and herb and the true thorn and light)
I was lost in a valley of pleasure.
I was lost in the infinite sea.
I was lost, and measure for measure,
love spewed from the heart of me.
I was lost, and the cost,
and the cost didn't matter to me.
I was lost, and the cost
was to be outside society.
Jimi Hendrix was a nigger.
Jesus Christ and Grandma, too.
Jackson Pollock was a nigger.
Nigger, nigger, nigger, nigger,
nigger, nigger, nigger.
Outside of society, they're waitin' for me.
Outside of society, if you're looking,
that's where you'll find me.
Outside of society, they're waitin' for me.
Outside of society. (Repeat)
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