Paroles: Sonic Youth. Small Flowers Crack Concrete.
[Thurston]
small flowers crack concrete
narcotic squads sweep thru poet dens
spilling coffe grabbing 15 yr old runaway girls
by frazzled ponytailed hair + tossing them
into backseats of cop cars
the narcs beat the bearded oracles
replacing tantric love with
complete violence
lights + mirrors dot the city
inkstained hippies w/ boxed lunch + marijuana
mystery plays of shit and nothingness
blessed by colors from a black hat
blue lights search thru weeds
searching for the heart of d.a.levy
and the mind he left behind
what didjoo expect? another mystic wreck?
thats whatchoo got crawling in yr panic net
whatdidjoo bring me? not a goddamn thing yet
+ whatdidjoo leave me? another tombstone dream yeh
o salacious mansion, the boys held for ransom
didja see where he's gone? the blasted summers dawn
fucked up in cleveland fucked up in cleveland
short flight to nothing heavens up to something heavens up to something
levys up to something levys up to something
death poems for the living gods of america
plastic saxophones bleat, bleed for nothing, nada
cops crashing thru doors infuriated by silver charms
of suburban smoke
at war with patches of red dirt glitter
and bluejean fucking
+ protest
small flowers crack concrete
narcotic squads sweep thru poet dens
spilling coffe grabbing 15 yr old runaway girls
by frazzled ponytailed hair + tossing them
into backseats of cop cars
the narcs beat the bearded oracles
replacing tantric love with
complete violence
lights + mirrors dot the city
inkstained hippies w/ boxed lunch + marijuana
mystery plays of shit and nothingness
blessed by colors from a black hat
blue lights search thru weeds
searching for the heart of d.a.levy
and the mind he left behind
what didjoo expect? another mystic wreck?
thats whatchoo got crawling in yr panic net
whatdidjoo bring me? not a goddamn thing yet
+ whatdidjoo leave me? another tombstone dream yeh
o salacious mansion, the boys held for ransom
didja see where he's gone? the blasted summers dawn
fucked up in cleveland fucked up in cleveland
short flight to nothing heavens up to something heavens up to something
levys up to something levys up to something
death poems for the living gods of america
plastic saxophones bleat, bleed for nothing, nada
cops crashing thru doors infuriated by silver charms
of suburban smoke
at war with patches of red dirt glitter
and bluejean fucking
+ protest
Sonic Youth
Sonic Youth
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