Now I know where I’ve seen your face Plastered up on posters all over the place /
Born with ears, even now, packed with garbage. the stuff of dead men. wax, & elbows, sewage, seaweed, debris of forgotten oceans, or shells, or the shells & shit they beat the Indians with /
All the trouble you’ve caused, pain and misery You do so much wrong you should be under Lock & Key /
For us to shut up, what they can offer. pitiful. so small, can it bend the ear. paper, & shells, to fill our ears, to make us forget /
All the trouble you’ve caused, pain and misery You do so much wrong you should be under Lock & Key /
To sing, made some improbable proposition, to get thru, Some genius we wanted to cry, to the moon, like weird wolves of illusion, insanity, the stoppage /
All the trouble you’ve caused, pain and misery You do so much wrong you should be under Lock & Key /
Drained, & collapse, on the floor, thru, with love, & unsettled ears. to begin to go, where the music goes, out, to you /
Long long time been under Lock & Key About time everybody should be free All the trouble you’ve caused, pain and misery You do so much wrong you should be under Lock & Key
About time everybody should be free //