“Bob” has parked his car.
And i am climbing out the trunk.
A new born twisted sister, a toadstool-hunk, frop in bulk.
Wicked, dusty, mushy brain
woods. Murky junk – moonbeam rays
Automatic sandals, not a man, never any pain.
Nothing but gain feeding a flame
Enclosed in gentle rain.
I’ve gone insane
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I know a time long ago
sitting with you down by the fire
April day snug against you
And even though i was only a baby
i remember hugging you
Mamma
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Poor missopan about to be eaten..
he looks scared, so fragile yet beaten
Beaten to a pulp, he had to pay for his sin
He peeps when you put your fork into him..
Thats horrible, that’s gory
first he think he’s having a good time, bathing in life’s glory
but if he only knew what awaits behind the veils.
The life for the missopan starts out swell, with a straight sail
BUT THEN, WHAM, and he’s a stomped snail
Riding high in April shot down in May
It’s not easy…the short life of a missopan
So disposable… so frail…
Alive then away..
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Barbarism wearing a hat
And pants and shirt
maybe going to church
Not naked not bold
Inconsiderate and cold
A mongoloid in wedding dress
serenade to the romusic of incest
Charmed by an romance, the best
It has passed every test, the con
You must also sing along
And not out of tune
I’d rather chose solitude
on my own
get gone
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Moon over Alabama
Lets consume some female genitalia
And whiskey and ale–no frop, no way??
Bio-weapons fumbled in China, doomsday
Tonight i will be going away…to Ursa Minor
Visit my favorite Diner
To Dibbstown, i’ll sail away
I’m just a cat in a hat, coon main
Its actually better be insane
In this day and age
The one to blame, but so sublime
On a starburst-rave, shaking the behind
A salad toss of pills and lettuce
I got the cassette – and a few dimes
Lets party, party down, tonight
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Odin, Tor and Freya must have been having a party
How did i end up here – born into this circus
Merry go round round – im drunk on the moon
I must say heartlhy, im just a goon
A cat capsised on a stormy seaside
They must have been partying on a boat
A pentagram and a goat, why read the bible serious
When i can read the words of Master, angel pope
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Set the night on fire
Set the world on fire
Ride the wings of Destruction…destroy!
Freedom is dire, and love thy neighbor…Roy
Try to enter the void, satan’s boy-toy, totally wired
So wrong, so right…so gone, out of sight..
Set fire to the night
Evil little boy
Twisted…higher
Cerveau bonbon
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I started my brain, and broke the chain
But they turned it off again, and gave me pain
It started to rain, and i cried, alone and insane
Yet not insane…insane were sane, and sane were, well, something to blame
I lost my heart to a dame, her name was Jane
But i i hit the ditch in the fast lane, and she drove away
I became lame, and lost a thousand days, in hell
But i was brave, like a caged tiger i wailed
All i wanted was to move to Maine
Now i sleep in a barn, in the hay
Nothing more to say
Just have a sip of Jim Beam, and spark up a “J”
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Pardon me…pardon my brain of sun-dried meadow-hay
But I’m lost since that day, since i saw her eyes smiling my way
Nothing means anything, unless you’re that princess i crave, nothing you might say
Its just her, everything is her, im possessed and lost, sorry to say
i sailed into her bay to lay my soul to rest, and stay in her, I’m no there–where anyone rave
Im gone, numbly i yearn, changed worlds, while i dream i creeped away to only dreams of her
The trees dance, they sway, all i hear is them whisper her name, the leaves subtly tease
Telling me she will never know my name, she will fall in love with someone named Dave
While i die insane she’ll be riding away from the con’s church, to wedding bells
I got everyone to blame – so i wont stay, farewell…Planet-X awaits
I don’t care for the former or the next, just this bottle in the pocket of my vest
Farewell.. you can’t give me anything better then the best, cuz that’s her
I’ll might seem present, but I’m in a state of dream – everything is Jane
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Ordinary people are acid
And im not talking Lysergic diethylamide
Their brains are thinking, ideals and greed
Never lost it never gained, sad indeed
No water on the ganja seed, not jazzy
A mob, malign the weird, hate-posse
Social fools unsatisfied and bossy
Whatever, they’re yesterday’s feel
Dropped beads, dropped in the sea
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