can you burn up all those sins
and rocket yourself to heaven
can you try and try but never count past eleven
i can cry and cry
i just turned twenty seven
but like most things
it doesn't really mean anything
unless you let it mean everything
like the tomato you throw
at an old vaudeville show
that's a wasted lunch
for a long distance punch
it was uncomfortable to watch
with you
the way she moved
i know that i'm thinking
of beating
it and that
wish i could clean up the mess
at the drop of a hat
words will never be found
i burnt them
buried them
though they pound and pound
like edgars eyes, hearts and black cats
i won't be forgotten
i can't be put to rest
angora itch skirts
that you insulted
borrow a hair brush
you are picture perfect
something was and is missing
somewhere in your chest
or is it your mind
i could never place it
i guess
i guess
and
i guess
and pound it out
again and again
drums of war pilgrims death
to be and not be
is not a question
but a reality
is it noble to be insane
to leave the child
to spill and stain
crush velvet bears
boxed and bloody ears
tall trees that no one climbs
empty seas that can find the time
of crustaceans
that care about tea and toast
accoutrement that help a friendly ghost
letters of the alpha beta
crunch in your mouth
and sing in your head
and all these things you dream
when she puts on her socks and
is trying to shake out the rocks
leaving today
for home
to stay
john lennon would somehow know what to say
but you can't
you won't
so you open your hands
and close them
and wonder about palms
and lovers
and finger nails in the ash tray
and how it's all going to be different someday
clear
clean
pristine
serene
and his hands are like water
his hands are like sand
his hands know the difference
between sweats and sedans
orange
never mentioned
grease
covered kitchen
there's no difference
when she won't take the time to listen
its not cotton
its not soot
its not shit
its a small vocabulary
that she can't understand
like building a house with pine needles
like baking bread without pans
and rocket yourself to heaven
can you try and try but never count past eleven
i can cry and cry
i just turned twenty seven
but like most things
it doesn't really mean anything
unless you let it mean everything
like the tomato you throw
at an old vaudeville show
that's a wasted lunch
for a long distance punch
it was uncomfortable to watch
with you
the way she moved
i know that i'm thinking
of beating
it and that
wish i could clean up the mess
at the drop of a hat
words will never be found
i burnt them
buried them
though they pound and pound
like edgars eyes, hearts and black cats
i won't be forgotten
i can't be put to rest
angora itch skirts
that you insulted
borrow a hair brush
you are picture perfect
something was and is missing
somewhere in your chest
or is it your mind
i could never place it
i guess
i guess
and
i guess
and pound it out
again and again
drums of war pilgrims death
to be and not be
is not a question
but a reality
is it noble to be insane
to leave the child
to spill and stain
crush velvet bears
boxed and bloody ears
tall trees that no one climbs
empty seas that can find the time
of crustaceans
that care about tea and toast
accoutrement that help a friendly ghost
letters of the alpha beta
crunch in your mouth
and sing in your head
and all these things you dream
when she puts on her socks and
is trying to shake out the rocks
leaving today
for home
to stay
john lennon would somehow know what to say
but you can't
you won't
so you open your hands
and close them
and wonder about palms
and lovers
and finger nails in the ash tray
and how it's all going to be different someday
clear
clean
pristine
serene
and his hands are like water
his hands are like sand
his hands know the difference
between sweats and sedans
orange
never mentioned
grease
covered kitchen
there's no difference
when she won't take the time to listen
its not cotton
its not soot
its not shit
its a small vocabulary
that she can't understand
like building a house with pine needles
like baking bread without pans
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