jikan myshkin
05-14-2008, 07:11 PM
The straw hat country bumpkin handed me his dream
He sold it in a buyers market, he sold it to his mum
He was a lost kid that was found out too soon
He thought he was Dostoyevsky, turns out he was just Stephen King
Now he’s living on a memory and the sun ain’t shining
He told me his prophecies and taught me how to die
I said I was too busy so he hit me in the eye
He said I couldn’t see what had been laid in front of me
Naked and abashed
His pet goat’s behind
His uncle was a ghost
His sprits were low
Told me he been feeling faint
Asked me if I had change to blow
So briefly I informed that I just had to go
The coconut was too shy to say hello
So I tossed my first stone, broke down my own glass back door
Only to realise I was like a fish
Drowning in some rich girl’s aquarium
Helpless like her mother on antibiotics
I showed her my poetry and she just had to laugh
She told me I was dick king smith and boy! I was taken aback
I though I was writing at a second grade level
Turns out I was composing the bible
Out of worn out spaghetti trees
They planted the apple but Adam had to have the last bite
He mocked my modesty, I stole his fig leaf
Eve sent me out into the garden to think of what I’d done
Then she sent me a postcard from the Promised Land
Reading dear X, you’re under my thumb
Saw a young maiden skipping in the stream
I asked her softly why she ran from me
She told me so sweetly that my ears stuck out so far
And gently caressed me with the truth of the flag
The American flag
I asked the flag sharply what the girl had meant
Said the flag gruffly for he’d just woken up
The cold war was over and he was now free
To tell me and anybody the facts
That the true stars of America are white communist
At this I was greatly taken aback
I said I thought it was Britney
And the flag just laughed
He told me to go to England and see a man
Who stood on a column above the skyline
A pigeon gave me a disease he’d read about in a book
I called for a doctor to come take a look
The doc had a pager and looked stern
Told me I had cholera and there was no hope
I gave him a dollar and he told me I’d live to never die
Margaret Thatcher was hosting a pronunciation party
I turned up unpronounced
She said she didn’t hear me coming
I said I’d like to go out with a bang
She told me to get lost after having some tea so I followed her map to find some stature of liberty
I drifted through York, both new and old
The weather changed and I caught a cold
I sniffled and sneezed in my pocket of chance
I rolled my eyes like they were dice
It came up crossed eyed and my glasses broke
Now, I don’t mean to be preachy
But I love peaches, not to fond of cream
Unless it’s dairy
My best friend was a cow who let me have a taste
Before tossing me out on my face
Ambiguous meaning of the bigoted few
Told the lonesome hobo what to do
He picked up a gun and went on a hunt
To find the fish sleeping in the barrel of his gun
Which backfired and he lost his gum
You shoulda seen him cry as his teeth ran down the street
Even Lou Reed smirked in the cold street light
While searching for a mainline and Bob Dylan’s quill and pen
To write propaganda for the criminally insane
And call it Wordsworth, worthless and vein
I’d love to meet nico at the height of her fame
I’d love to meet Bardot at anytime
I’d love to grow a grape vine in southern Spain
Said the 27 year old paper boy
As he shovels his pencil across his school work’s pain
But he was just a distraction from my empty road
Torn away from solitude by history’s unknown
In a heated room made of broken pipes
The cracks appear in the vacant mirror
The computer screen
The country bumpkin has faded from thought and action
The raven has perched and is warming up his throat
His soul is burdened by Edgar’s continuous moaning
And the fire’s smouldering embers
In the record player’s eye
Miles improvises the same tune night after night
His lyrics lack the punch of a ten year old wine
He drifts out of mind and drifts into sight
He drifts like a leaf dancing in the breezy moonlight
I drift into consciousness as the world fades from my sight…
He sold it in a buyers market, he sold it to his mum
He was a lost kid that was found out too soon
He thought he was Dostoyevsky, turns out he was just Stephen King
Now he’s living on a memory and the sun ain’t shining
He told me his prophecies and taught me how to die
I said I was too busy so he hit me in the eye
He said I couldn’t see what had been laid in front of me
Naked and abashed
His pet goat’s behind
His uncle was a ghost
His sprits were low
Told me he been feeling faint
Asked me if I had change to blow
So briefly I informed that I just had to go
The coconut was too shy to say hello
So I tossed my first stone, broke down my own glass back door
Only to realise I was like a fish
Drowning in some rich girl’s aquarium
Helpless like her mother on antibiotics
I showed her my poetry and she just had to laugh
She told me I was dick king smith and boy! I was taken aback
I though I was writing at a second grade level
Turns out I was composing the bible
Out of worn out spaghetti trees
They planted the apple but Adam had to have the last bite
He mocked my modesty, I stole his fig leaf
Eve sent me out into the garden to think of what I’d done
Then she sent me a postcard from the Promised Land
Reading dear X, you’re under my thumb
Saw a young maiden skipping in the stream
I asked her softly why she ran from me
She told me so sweetly that my ears stuck out so far
And gently caressed me with the truth of the flag
The American flag
I asked the flag sharply what the girl had meant
Said the flag gruffly for he’d just woken up
The cold war was over and he was now free
To tell me and anybody the facts
That the true stars of America are white communist
At this I was greatly taken aback
I said I thought it was Britney
And the flag just laughed
He told me to go to England and see a man
Who stood on a column above the skyline
A pigeon gave me a disease he’d read about in a book
I called for a doctor to come take a look
The doc had a pager and looked stern
Told me I had cholera and there was no hope
I gave him a dollar and he told me I’d live to never die
Margaret Thatcher was hosting a pronunciation party
I turned up unpronounced
She said she didn’t hear me coming
I said I’d like to go out with a bang
She told me to get lost after having some tea so I followed her map to find some stature of liberty
I drifted through York, both new and old
The weather changed and I caught a cold
I sniffled and sneezed in my pocket of chance
I rolled my eyes like they were dice
It came up crossed eyed and my glasses broke
Now, I don’t mean to be preachy
But I love peaches, not to fond of cream
Unless it’s dairy
My best friend was a cow who let me have a taste
Before tossing me out on my face
Ambiguous meaning of the bigoted few
Told the lonesome hobo what to do
He picked up a gun and went on a hunt
To find the fish sleeping in the barrel of his gun
Which backfired and he lost his gum
You shoulda seen him cry as his teeth ran down the street
Even Lou Reed smirked in the cold street light
While searching for a mainline and Bob Dylan’s quill and pen
To write propaganda for the criminally insane
And call it Wordsworth, worthless and vein
I’d love to meet nico at the height of her fame
I’d love to meet Bardot at anytime
I’d love to grow a grape vine in southern Spain
Said the 27 year old paper boy
As he shovels his pencil across his school work’s pain
But he was just a distraction from my empty road
Torn away from solitude by history’s unknown
In a heated room made of broken pipes
The cracks appear in the vacant mirror
The computer screen
The country bumpkin has faded from thought and action
The raven has perched and is warming up his throat
His soul is burdened by Edgar’s continuous moaning
And the fire’s smouldering embers
In the record player’s eye
Miles improvises the same tune night after night
His lyrics lack the punch of a ten year old wine
He drifts out of mind and drifts into sight
He drifts like a leaf dancing in the breezy moonlight
I drift into consciousness as the world fades from my sight…