HUNT
Dissect her puppet, too
Call me my mix words war
Damn these words
Web cages do more
She sings war
The hunt went to her feet
Long feet to bag
This secret hidden in me
Dumb denial
Hunt me
Pin the rope and herb
Hunt or go seek
OR GO SEEK
My commercial pop words with mixed up letters, as
These words become word games, and
When these wings turn to feathers, the
Secret to finding the gold beneath me is
Hidden in the pop album number three, and
Hunt or go seek.
Leave me in here with my paper and pen
No need to make plans, no need to make friends
In here I don't hear the world spinning by
In here it begins, and in here it will end
In here, I'm old, withered and grey
In here, I'm still a small child at play
In here it can be either day when it's night
Or night when it's day
In here, all my anger and all of my fears
Are blank checks
Scapegoat the world as it appears -from here
All my dreams come to life
With or without the rear-view mirror
Everything is clearer in here
In here all my heroes are heroes again
In here all my lovers and all of my friends
Are still here
The way I wish to remember them
In here, I don't have to pretend
In here, if I'm happy the sun will shine bright
If I'm not, the lights will dim
In here it begins, and in here it will end
i only hope to find it
a place like nowhere else
where the world turns slowly
people don't do things by themselves
i only hope to find it
a time with eyes not cross
not a moment to worry
not a moment lost
i only hope i find it
to appease my broken dream
find royalty in my virtues
and humility in my queen
i only hope to find it
with sanity not out of context
fulfill a fantasy from its incarnation
with which retains a family's conquest
i only hope to find it
i only hope it's not far
the sun sets beyond the aether
with nothing less than a new dawn
i can only hope to the world
and the sun and the stars
that when i find it
i’m not gone
Sour mash and fiberglass
Not a product of my making
I drive, instead a 'vette to bed
Let the bourbon shake me
Live it up, buttercup
Nashville, you must know
I love my neighbor half to death
My old Kentucky home
Let's drive into the eye of the twister
Live or die, we're going down in history
Settle down below the Mason-Dixon
Start using words like ain't and fixin'
Alabama, baby
You got a lotta nooks and crannies
I'll be hiding on the island
In the gulf of the Atlantic
New teeth, new lights for my outhouse
And I got my first new pair of shoes
I got a banjo on my knee
And a jar of homemade booze
You and me floating down the Tennessee meet
I try to scrape the scum from my feet
When I'm done I grab a gun and make a feast
That's the day we all make love in the southeast
look a girl straight in the eyeballs and you can tell
how evil she really is
the smog covers north nashville
i look down on the morning light and it's all a grey area
if she smiles and it looks too good, she's probably made of stone
i bet she doesn't wear her wedding ring when her husband isn't here
i bet she sees him clearer when there's a sun in the fucking sky
i bet she'll always lie
so i can fornicate with oblivion until the clouds hang so low that i'm above them
i'm on the 8th floor
there's no reason for me to be stuck below them
i don’t think i should see her anymore
your future is born all over again
with godspeed make amends
fighting the dawn of time
you wanna end on a good note?
play it by ear
i cannot hear right now
i'm not here right now
leave a message
i'll get it when i'm dead
send me lessons
life beckons
shelve the good stones
skip up to good steps
step up to death
excellence in a bird cage
wait wait wait
i'm the waiter
can't carry the weight
stone throw
give it up
suck it up suck up
cryptic
mystic
i don't really give a fuck
your server is out of service
no sweat 'nother cigarette
and breathe easy
breathe without me
listen to our lungs crush
black tar
evan green
mean mean mean states
t and t
tangerine twist with a lime
wine
red
white
and blue sky
pale pale pale ale
cement floors with stains
sound that bounces up down
circles
round round round
shiny shoes that meet their means
i still have to fucking clean
love and hate and somewhere in between
see see see me
listen up
feel me
my ego is the messenger
and i'm just a warm beast that breathes
eats and drinks and steals air
that someone else could use
someone who actually cares
i'm just a peasant left to sway
back and forth
to represent self that's never recognized
inside the beast
feast feast feast
on martyrs
feast on our fathers
take it all for just a second
have to drown to find bliss
life is smaller than this short kiss
that sees itself
die die die
death
miracles and ignorance
god
grace
intellect
rest in peace
please
bad tunes
ugly folks
warm beer
pissy restrooms
shit wreaks
lips that tease
dicks and tits in sleaze
which tip with spitt on me
smile like this and see
hell is how i pay my rent
to please the owner right behind the walls
wild rover
pints shattered
tables turned over
crawl to meet the floor
all this for dirt poor
nothing better
shitty weather
clouds meet clouds
stale air and sour cushions
lights on
last call
lights out
pass out
kill the band
stagehand
fall
crawl
pay your tabs
mad mad mad
You'd say anything to throw me off
All I want in life is not to be lost
Deep inside me there's yesterday
I can't find it anywhere anyways
Can’t stay long in your world
Court jester spins the wind whirled
Oh, look at what you've done to me
I'm all I got and I'm no good to me
I'm much better off behind a fools gavel
This pity, it's a raffle
Everyday still ends with bells
I wonder how court is adjourned in hell
I'd follow you anywhere, but I can't
The gut wrenching truth in this haunted land
Though reason has no grasp on a wary mind
I've stopped against good judgment between the lines
The evanescent lack of black and white
Becomes the purgatory between my wrong and my right
You're always with me, every place I loathe
I can't turn around, can't let you go
i was so heavy, now i'm weightless
but i wasn't ready to be inflated
i'm surrounded by greatness
trained to see in 3D, polished stainless
this colorful chaos
different shades of pretension i lost
is not a place where hard work pays off
that's why i presume we're doing it wrong
you would tell us if we're going down
you would tell us, wouldn't you?
you would tell us if we were doing it wrong
otherwise i don't think we'd know what to do
humbled by the like minds' submissiveness
a city full of talent turning into this shit
is this resentment or is this bliss?
does it get any better than this?
these may be the best times of our lives
counting our pennies just to survive
supposed to be a place where like minds thrive
if we're going down, i don't think we really mind
this is a place i soon plan on leaving
there's this crutch that these fools insist on believing
god, if you're more than you insist on being
shine light on something other than what i'm seeing
why don't you kill this colorful machine?
decorative by its own will
alive but not buoyantly
moving but not voyaging
some of us may find ourselves complacent
happy may be an overstatement
a condition of uncertainty
commonplace to kill or be killed
the mission is to listen to every word
take it to the other side of the earth
like the priest at my death wedding
divorcing hell as it begins to freeze
the hole in my head at my funeral
for my friends who forget to grieve
throw pennies in and make a wish
and i'll haunt you through your days
with the trolls in the yard
dixie whistling with the hellhound's howl
echoes repent towards the stars
when their son is on the prowl
students of the dumb taught to read in brail
eat the sediment of sound
drop the gravestone flowers
kill the red wasps hovering 'round
building nests upon death eating through the hours
arteries are rooted in
the forearm of my sleeve
that's how i wear a broken heart
when i can't tell if it beats
when the gravestone weeps, i check its pulse
alarm clock weeps too loud
i might be dead or on the phone
behind a snowplow
heaven isn’t so cold
poppies in the playground
trickling through my veins
the world is so much smaller
now that i cannot complain
if i ever wake up
there's a pitchfork which fits
in a raincloud made from tires
stitch her whip to her fingertips
and place her in the fire
all the blisters turn on sundays
and your smiles pretends to grieve
my heart rubs swift against her
and the blister can finally breathe
there's roses on her windshield
that's how i know i'm not to blame
there's wildfires on the reaper's face
that's how i know, i'll live another day
her necklace is the crossfire
a man infested pearl
she'll find another oyster
and i'll find another girl
kill the red wasps on the poppy blossoms
herein a freshly planted rose
stem the stemless orchids eternal
and greet them with a poised poignant pose
ferment the brandy fires
for cabbages and kings
defy the fungus and poppies in the veins
eat the cow shit rings
there's no traffic on sunday
when all the leaves are still
the wind is high and so am i
digging my way out of this hill
"God, give me grace, give me substance, give me value, give me virtue, give me faith. For, if I have no faith, I fear I am speaking to myself."
"Find it for yourself, and find me for yourself," he answers dully and dispassionately, “for I have no faith in you if I'm just speaking to myself."
"Who, then are you and then what is faith? What is virtue and what am I?"
The cool wind spins like a whirlpool in response to an otherwise unresponsive space. The inquisition falls to the ground, and his head aches with inquisitiveness. Inquiring on Inquiries submitted via enlightenment requires otherwise unrequited prerequisites.
"Otherwise unrequited prerequisites? What the fuck does that mean?"
"You are an unrequited prerequisite to life. The fuck is what that means."
"Devil, dear, why must you sleep by my bedside? For, you give me no comfort."
"Quite the contrary -yur his lust find loving in god- I am you, and you sleep by your own bedside."
Original 2005 Microsoft Word layout. Find LaSalle on AOL or myspace.com/robertlasalle (Hail to the Thief CD + Royal Tenenbaums VHS sold separately.)
