/standing outside a broken phonebooth with money in my hand/
primitive radio gods/rocket
jan lies down
Sit outside and argue all night long
My my the thoughts had drift away,
A life's time to teach you growing up
[back]
(c)pillbox, 1996
and whistles in her sleep,
moonlight spills on comic books
and superstars and magazines
An old friend calls
and tells us where to meet
A plane takes off from Baltimore
and touches down on Bourbon Street
about a god we have never
seen but never fails to side with me
Sunday comes and all the papers say
Ma teres(a) has joined the mob
and happy with a full time job
the summer comes for everyone
can humans do what prophets say
and if I die before I learn to speak
can money pay for all the days
I've lived away but half sleep
the seconds ticking killed us all
a million years before the fall
you ride the waves and don't ask where they go
you swim like Lions through the crest
and bath yourself in zebra flesh