We were at the alter on the day you were baptized everyone who held you has the moment memorized But thankful memories have mingled with a grief because
Pro life, pro choice, beauty queens Liquid Clorox, feminine hygiene Coca Cola, Tarter toothpaste Dial this number, slap it on my face Perfect placement
I'm falling under insatiable forces for naked attention, a sick metamorphose Pushing my victims to flatter and fawn me Obeying the dictum of all eyes
There is geography inside you, the mystic ocean is pristine It is the spirit realm, and you are at the helm where all the hungry souls convene Your instruments
Jackson Pollock finally captured movement and chaotic rapture through means divorced from all tradition But the sweeping change was too abstruse and
flushed my Sine-Aid tablets 'Don't take others' inventory,''Thanks for sharing' your sick story If I bluff I know they'll call it, cause 'I'm Stuart,
I know that I'll be famous when I kill the President There's gonna be blood on the White House lawn Nuts and bolts and dynamite in a six inch steel tube
At the baseball park on Pigment street me and all my friends would meet Some were fat and some were thin but all of them had creamy skin And I never
Of all the world's perfections, we safely may assume the most blessed and untainted is the treasure in the womb We wait for revelations, some miracle
There was a star that was hidden in space - an undiscovered gem until it's denizens decided they had chosen the Dagon to give the gift to them So with
For three months in '92 when I was such a wreck I spent endless evenings with my face draped against your neck It hurt when I was empty and friends just