Babelogue

Songs Title：babelogue

I haven't f**ked much with the past

But I've f**ked 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