The differences between anything insurmountable and obvious, negligible. Cry Jolene cry hallelujah and the answers will come back the same. I'm feeling the fall of my human race but either one of those things will do. I came out of an absurdest den wearing a white spangled fur-trimmed cowboy hat staring at Superman in his gold opalescent cowboy hat. The hats were thrown as plates by outerspace cowboys under the direction of Benito Di Fonzo but it wasn't his fault. My five dollar dinner tasted like five dollars, I'm crunching governments in my teeth. This here is nothing but typing for the clatter of words.
I'm headed down the highway. I'm headed down the highway. That thought isn't going anywhere. This is the decision to type without reason without pausing for the bell that signals thought. This is the result of typewriters and the purposeful arranging of sound onto sound onto sound. You can build something that way but paper cuts landscape into fingers, so personal an invasion. I didn't invent the train, this does not prevent me from riding on them. Oh cows. Grass balm and how fat the river sits at Emu Plains molten glass green but without proper reason for being. I walked there once and wondered something about frogs or termites or the burrowed fighting for flesh.
I can't put my finger on it. Something shifts and Superman said he was like Bob Dylan with no answers and Newtown was empty and the coffee unfamiliar. There's sugar in blood and beheadings. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it, now I'm German and ancient cause Superman's reading Goethe and god it seeps across the room. Shall I cry hallelujah? I'm awake without fields or the awareness of the stopping of time. I'm shaking like coffee. So you think you can tell? Can you tell a green field? Ah I'm typing ether and airwaves and the unbalanced end of last year's mixtape. I'm making walk on parts in my war. Did I tell you that I'm fighting myself. Spider, spider.
Unzip. Unzip inhibitions with purpose. This is a Goethe commitment. I will commit to something happening. You don't know what it is do you Mr Jones? Shall I cry hallelujah? It isn't sordid but it happened none the less. I know baby just how you feel. Can you see me standing with my back against the record machine? Don't even try to describe it.
I'm headed down the highway. I'm headed down the highway. That thought isn't going anywhere. This is the decision to type without reason without pausing for the bell that signals thought. This is the result of typewriters and the purposeful arranging of sound onto sound onto sound. You can build something that way but paper cuts landscape into fingers, so personal an invasion. I didn't invent the train, this does not prevent me from riding on them. Oh cows. Grass balm and how fat the river sits at Emu Plains molten glass green but without proper reason for being. I walked there once and wondered something about frogs or termites or the burrowed fighting for flesh.
I can't put my finger on it. Something shifts and Superman said he was like Bob Dylan with no answers and Newtown was empty and the coffee unfamiliar. There's sugar in blood and beheadings. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it, now I'm German and ancient cause Superman's reading Goethe and god it seeps across the room. Shall I cry hallelujah? I'm awake without fields or the awareness of the stopping of time. I'm shaking like coffee. So you think you can tell? Can you tell a green field? Ah I'm typing ether and airwaves and the unbalanced end of last year's mixtape. I'm making walk on parts in my war. Did I tell you that I'm fighting myself. Spider, spider.
Unzip. Unzip inhibitions with purpose. This is a Goethe commitment. I will commit to something happening. You don't know what it is do you Mr Jones? Shall I cry hallelujah? It isn't sordid but it happened none the less. I know baby just how you feel. Can you see me standing with my back against the record machine? Don't even try to describe it.
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