100 Monkeys
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
100 monkeys will generate a psychic link
Some people think
100 monkeys we're scramblin' to the brink
Of world peace
Some people think
100 monkeys to save the human race from ruin
Or so a lot of folks presume
100 monkeys they want us to visualize it
Dance and sing and shout about it
100 monkeys
Somehow I doubt it
I'm outside outside
Outside the link
I don't buy in
To all the crazy stunts they're trying
Cos their lips are moving
You know that they're lying
100 monkeys tomorrow gonna kill one on a cross
Some people need a symbolic loss
100 monkeys when the workers rule prosperity's lost
Some people can't wait to pay the cost
100 monkeys will set us on the road to peace
Or back to the trees
100 monkeys I have less trouble visualizing
100 monkeys' worth of fleas
Golly
These guys are really nuts
Along the Quarter, 1985
Copyright 1991, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
The sweating, candle-faced saints are smiling.
The gin is cool, the lime comes rising,
The brass horns chime, chime, chiming,
And bright triangles ringing.
Snare drums thrum inside your lungs.
Spirits are still singing when we
Stumble through the door and anew are born into
The heat that sinks around trellised balconies.
And here is a new bottle of wine.
Here, a misplaced time wedged between
Vine-crawling red brick walls.
And we might take a walk, someone said,
And so we go talking,
And laughing along the crumbling curbs where,
Accidentally falling into a hat store, we surprised the
Skinny girl whose kohl-circled eyes
Scowled over the trinkets the rich man buys.
Then this was the end of a night.
This, then, was where the night was bitten off,
As we waited outside in a
Wrought iron cafe painted white,
Where music remains a distant memory
And we must stretch ourselves
(And with an effort we stretch ourselves)
Along years pouring slow like honey, and:
"Have you still got any money"
While just across the levee is a
Dreaming swamp twisted with drowned trees.
Just along this high wall, and
Ten paces past the creaking gates,
The ruins of old murders sleep out of sight
Or float up unsettlingly in the moonlight.
But in this sheltered civilization we enjoy
Worlds in hybrid music and the tears of saints,
And magnolia perfume that spills down from
The mystery and laughter of darkened rooms
And trellised balconies.
Arena
Copyright 1991, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
If you run too fast the world moves slow. You
Step off the ride, you got No place to go.
Compensate for the vertigo, try to
Cope with the spin.
The carousel comes round, reach out to
Board it again.
But it's no merry-go-round: you've found
The lion's den.
The crowd squeals in delight when you
Enter the ring.
Instantly twenty-five paid mourners
Commence to sing.
It's the spring of your life but still
Everything's frozen.
If they'd given you the option, what
Would you have chosen?
With ears packed in sawdust, and with
Eyes wet with sweat, you smell
Feline behind you, but it
Ain't over yet.
They're selling peanuts and pretzels
In the stands for a buck.
Way down in the rut bald
Wheels just dig in,
Gunnin' the engine, four tires just spinnin,
Too determined for losin', too
Distracted for winnin.
The cat makes his great leap and the
Crowd makes a moan.
You prop your feet on the desk and you
Reach for the phone,
But your mom wheezes: "I can't recall a single instance
You ever did what you were told"
And then Dial-a-Prayer interrupts its own message to
Put you on hold.
"Oh my God," you ponder,
"What's this strange karma I've found"
And the lion reaches his apogee, and then he
Starts coming down.
Twenty-five under-paid mourners
File from the stands
And ride fiery chariots through the heavens to
Far-away lands.
Do the mystics and physicists know what
Any of it means?
In the privacy of their cells they shake
Aces from their sleeves,
While arcade bombadiers and other profiteers
Grow holy and prey down on their knees.
Picking through bones for overlooked scraps,
They congratulate one another for
Escaping all traps,
And for avoiding all doors that
Appear to let in to
Mild carnival rides that in fact are
Disguised lions' dens. But they
Utter private paranoid prayers as the
Midway lights dim, for
Today it was just you -
Any tomorrow now it just might be
One of them.
Bad Vibes
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
I was on a winning streak
And playing it rather well
Then I hit a little snag
And it all went to hell
I should have seen it coming
But I ignored the signs
When the planets crashed and burned
Bad vibes
I was getting truly close
To all the things I needed
Successes came to me in waves
Then like a new moon tide receded
Now I'm stranded on the beach
A victim of hard times
Nothing essential's within my reach
Bad vibes
When the swirl of events
Gets so far beyond control
You rock along while you can rock
And then you let it roll
So go on telling jokes
But if you injure someone's pride
You should have been more mindful of
Bad vibes
Now the party may be over
But I'm told life's not completely tragic
Next time I'll be more careful
When I fiddle around with magic
Next time I scry a fallen warrior
I'll double-check the signs
Liquidate my assets and vanish when I pick up
Bad vibes
Bajada Song
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom
Bring me to the bajada
Build me a body of light and air
I'll shower you with rose petals
If you'll come with me there
You need not doubt my intention
You need not doubt my word
I'll nourish your soul and body
And clarify what's been blurred
Our dedication will support us
As we stroll across the sky
To tear the edges off the sun
With proud brown hawks we'll fly
So bring me to the bajada
Build me a home of ice and fire
You're the gilt-edged gem of freedom
The wellspring of my desire
Broken Parallax
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
The skunk is in the garbage
The sun is black as coal
It's too late to polish up the King's
Tarnished rockin' soul
Basement's full of blasting caps
One day it's bound to blow
Then we'll gargle tainted treacle
And choke down bitter crow
Our scenes are getting thick
My friends call me Dick
The night is dripping vinegar
The wedding cake's got dry rot
I guess somebody up there realized you gotta
Give the people what they want
Silly girls throw their lives away
For handsome princes who revert to frogs
And the lone wolves on the cutting edge are revealed to be
A foam-dripping pack of snarling dogs
Our scenes are getting thick
My friends call me Dick
Book-burners don't dare the barrio
Dire wolves are scratchin' at the door
Barges bearing future kings must float
Never hoping to reach a shore
The mayor ran afoul of the narcs
Gerald Ford lost face pushin' WINnin'
History's buried Karl Marx
Instant karma slammed into Lennon
Our scenes are getting thick
My friends call me Dick
Now my good friends are getting scarce
My bad enemies are getting worse
And I'm getting too sophisticated for composing
This sort of Tobacco Road verse
Got bullet holes in aluminum cans
Got bullet holes in my TV
Got a garage full of non-returnable plans
Too grandiose to check thermodynamic destiny
Our scenes are getting much too thick
My friends when they bother to call me
Call me Dick
The horse head is in the front yard
You make do with what you've got
The philosopher-king just died of kuru
Which I suppose is food for thought
Salamander in my liver
Bile on my tongue
Seduction in a shot glass
Cocci in my lung
And our scenes are getting too thick for me
Every friend calls me Dick eventually
And I never woulda thought I'd be breathing high vacuum again
Never anticipated our non-aggression pact
Could one day end
But the skunk is in the garbage
The sun's hung in a tree
My friends call me Dick
It means nothing now to me
Creeper
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom
In a little Southern town
At a long day's demise
Pa and Ma prepared to settle down
In a moldy motel eroding under drizzling skies
Pa bumbled up to the desk
Requesting a room with isolation
They shuttled their stuff into their demesne
Pregnant with exhaustion and trepidation
Long 'bout midnight
Ma give Pa quite a fright
Pa said be quiet Ma what's wrong
Ma said Pa our little Creeper's gone
Pa's blood froze up in his veins
And his face turned bone-pale
Beyond the open window the great freight trains
Grumbled ominously away up northeastern rail
Pa and Ma sneaked down peeling corridors
Softly hissing their Creeper's name
It was an endless nightmare life they lived
An exhausting lifestyle they tried to maintain
Creeper Creeper come to Ma
Creeper Creeper come to Pa
Creeper Creeper your whim is our intention
Creeper be disfigured beyond recognition
Three nights and days unbroken by sleeping
They rummaged the little Southern town in vain
The desk clerk grew suspicious of the hours they were keeping
Ma collapsed on the bed and Pa watched a great freight train
Grumbling ominously away in the evening
He was like the blind man who can suddenly see
He woke up Ma and held her in his flabby arms
Slobbering trembling laughing hysterically
Long 'bout midnight
Their Buick was two receding red lights
Blazing a fiery escape route westward-bound
They never returned to
The little Southern town
Cycler
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
I was waiting one night at the great white machines
Near dozing in the muggy warmth and crackling static
I was wondering how my friends fell for various improbable schemes
My clothes cycling 'round forever
Unforgiving and emphatic
September breeze through the open door
A blushing new wife folding her life
A gust parachuted her pink panties to the floor
I watched a movie against
The advice of a friend
But it made me feel different so I
Watched it again
It was downright disgusting and
Vile and mean
Degrading to the species
If you know what I mean
But I gained something that you
Can't take away
And though you blame me for everything
I'll always feel this way
She left a note for me that read
The best things in life are really free
And no one ever really dies
And nothing
I am with you always
Cycler
Come back to us now
You know the way
You can show us how
On your wild-revving machine of life
Spitting out flecks of purpose and courage
Give us your stories of the road you need
And of the humanity we all bleed
Getting Closer
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom
It's just my normal flora baby
Don't let it alarm you
Just my normal flora honey
It won't do excessive harm to you
I'll be your personal endosymbiont
Check your emotions it's just
The very thing you want
You'll adjust to all the new
Sounds and foreign smells
I'm finding it perfectly easy to
Slip inside your cells
Cos there's a wild spark that flickers
At the corners of your green eyes
There's a nervous tension
Thrumming on the air
I can hear your thoughts
Pulsing in my brain
I can feel my fingers
Pushing back your hair
We'll be close baby
Real close
Your flesh is my flesh
Your bread is my blood
Your red wine is my white bone
My graven sign is your genome
And we're getting closer baby
Real close
Flesh and blood in dissolution
We're getting closer baby
Real close
Only a million lifetimes separate
This reconstitution
Hobo Passin' Through
Copyright 1991, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
Back when the pathetic prophet predicted peace and you
Slammed shut the lousy book you'd read
The foundations trembled underneath our scene.
It really opened up my head.
The air was shaking like a wet dog.
The news was on, it made no sense.
Your hound was bayin' down the stairwell, and I was
Scabbin' on a picket fence. Now you're
Stranded in an alley where grim
Camels scamper by,
And organ grinder monkeys gouge your eyes out
If you pry.
I can still recall when I trusted Belinda,
It was a couple hours ago.
Her best smile sure made my membranes melt,
My forgiveness greasing her squeaking guilt.
Thought I'd pluck out the stake she was
Wearing in her chest, cos it
Occurred to me that she might wish to rise.
But she tore after me with thirsty daggers
Burstin' out her eyes - Well I
Came to you with thoughts all pure as
Public health and sanitation,
But your drunken cries and your
Shepherd lies and boy scout collection
Just filled me up with images of gross
Contamination and progressive
Terminal infection.
You've got to live with the divisions when
Everybody's playing for the same stakes.
A writhing mass of contradictions
Like a sink a-brim with hissing snakes.
Does no good to reverse your gears
With the paradoxes pounding through your ears.
It's branded in before you're born:
Respect ferments to lowest scorn.
I was sitting in a certain cafe
Reading about the acceptance public access TV is gaining
When the sky split open like velvet curtains
And a blazing angel appeared before me saying:
"I've been sent to grant you a miracle,
Just whisper your secret desires to me"
I folded the paper and right away answered:
"I'm just waiting for a cup of tea"
Guess it's been 'proximately six years now
I ain't caught a wink of sleep.
My eyes are spent cannon shot in a Saharan sirocco, and my
Cultivated shallowness is getting deep.
And you -
You're fenced in choices and you
Gestate indecision.
You trade off your honor
For popular derision.
Haven't you seen it all now
On the nightly news?
Popular political pimps
Inform your views.
Up in your lofty tower of glass you're
Suddenly exposed, yeah,
You're the emperor renowned who
Spent his crown on threadbare clothes. Well,
Nobody lives by the scruples
They so readily profess to believe in.
They climb in bed with the first enemy
Who's willing to receive them.
Then they swear allegiance to a higher cause
For the most despicable reasons,
And whisper white lies for the greater good,
And commit ten thousand other treasons.
It's so easy to be righteous
When no debatable options present.
I know you're the soul of charity,
But some offenses you resent.
Ain't you just another human
Besieged by human sensations?
God knows I've felt empty too after
Struggling with those same temptations.
The ambitious fireman extinguished the sun
While his sullen wife considered throwing a hydrophobic fit.
I just babbled away in a mystic tongue
Leaving nobody 'cept you to interpret it.
Now Jack is listenin' in on phone calls
While Sherry snips out paper dolls,
And those who threw it all away watch
TV cops, then climb the walls.
Sure is cold since the sun sold out,
And the nights are slick as butter.
The nihilistic bore declares bold doubt and laughs when the
Cool voice of reason starts to stutter.
An imbecile in his house of flesh can't
See the world beyond his eyes, but there's a
Hobo who's just passin' through an' he
Knows there's really nothin' else worth doin'.
Otherside
Copyright 1991, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
The color white, wherein
The profane becomes divine. . . .
And there may come a girl,
There will be a foolish girl who
In shades too dark to view her
Pinched and tattered world through, standing
Bored beside an iron fence, awaiting. . . .anything,
Blind even to her ironic circumstance -
On that day, on that day to end the days,
To break the flow of days she's known,
Wrapped in black entire, unsuspecting, then:
As the sky cracks and the
Blanching earth moans
She may stumble (quite by accident)
Into a contorted vision of
Changing Woman, painted white as Moon's bones
Who rose up dancing when birds of indigo blue
Spread their wings and flew like the
Flash of a quick knife, dark birds,
Yellow-speckled edge of wings splash, and the
Patter-pat of dark-seamed moccasins stirring
Soft powder sand and
The clack of white shells shaking around her neck,
The tremor of the turquoise, the abalone,
The swaying prismatic spray from rock-crystal and
Tar-black jewel beads,
White clay, ocher red, forehead adorned with
Corn pollen, and the jabbing of the yucca root, but -
The sun has shut his eye this day,
On this day, on this day to devour the days,
A day scrubbed clean of smell and taste,
A day all clad in night when
All sing is erased. . . .
And all worlds are shifted into
New vistas and ways.
And all shadows are twisted, twined,
Into and out of phase.
This silly girl in dark shades,
Surely she must stand frozen sudden and straight,
Caught pinned on solar horns.
Four days must she wait
And be destroyed then by her fate. . . .Still,
Worlds blend successive casual,
And new suns boldly glow,
And even this empty-headed girl, all these things
For a fleeting instant she may feel but never,
Never shall she know.
Pricing Eggs
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
It sure was a long hot summer baby
Never certain I could call you friend
You put me through some changes now I'm
Never going back again
I can still see you all dressed in black
And your laughter carries in the wind
Now the season's turning over and I'll be
Back on the trail again
Well I still don't know what you require
Too much dust is hanging in the air
But I'll be around when you settle down
I'll smooth your blanket and brush your hair
I watched you in the market place
Pricing eggs with a knowing grin
Before the last star fades and the sun awakes I'll be
Back on the trail again
I need the solitary peace that floods the senses
Like an overflowing glass of wine
And you need something that's hidden from me
That will be revealed in time
I know you sample life in cautious sips
Complications always meant a new lost friend
I'll be there for you tonight but right now I'm
Back on the trail again
I never felt anything in a fancy church
I couldn't have got in a Laundromat
You left my house without an explanation
I left your house without my hat
So I came back to try to recover what was lost
There's no hidden message I'm trying to send
But when the nights grow long and the days cool off I'll be
Back on the trail again
Reincarnation Blues
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
Hey my name is Albert Einstein
Anyway it used to be
Way back in another lifetime
When you expected so much more from me
But now my life is such a drag
My insights will never reach the masses
I'm just swimming round and round this plastic bag
Being carried by a fat-faced kid in fat-lensed glasses
Reincarnated as a goldfish
What'd I ever do to deserve this
Such a miserable humiliating existence
Einstein as a goldfish
So we depart the pet store eventually
He's swinging me like a pendulum
Delta M is greater than h over c-squared delta t
Boy this is some insipid dull kid
Holy smoke look out here comes a truck
He notices it just at the last instant
Of all the improbable blind bad luck
This kid won't get much wasted sentiment
There are so many secrets that I could share
But it's so hard for a goldfish
To get somebody to care
He swings me around cos it gives him a kick
He's just proved to me that a
Fish can be seasick
I get dumped in an aquarium too tired to essay an inspection
Soon as the kid's gone I start feeling better
I need a plan to alert the world to my resurrection
But a fin can't hold a pen to inscribe a letter
Then there's sudden motion in the murky distance
I can feel my blood begin to curdle
Too late to pledge some onerous penance
Einstein as breakfast for Fido the snapping turtle
Scared to Death
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom
Your telephone's ringing but there's no reply
Give me a thrill and you steal my breath
But the way you treat me now sure scares me to death
Fingering my low-slung iron bola balls
A hot-blooded Gaucho fresh from the pampas grass
I'll gallop right into your fine lecture halls
Give you a swift kick in your post-graduate class
Spider lightning reticulates in the black
But the thunder can't compete with your curses
Bundled up over my poor guanaco's back
Strum my charango and slaughter some verses
You used to scare me like a voodoo doll
When I still thought you might escape
But now you're another trophy brightening my wall
Hold my sombrero and my monsoon cape
Used to worry all the time but I forget what for
Now I'm not scared to death of you no more
Stupid Stuff
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom
I said there's a million choices that color our worlds
She said I'm happiest when my world is black and white
I said I think that we could cut a deal
She said I've got other plans tonight
Boy I'm sure getting tired of
All this stupid stuff
Everybody wants to go get wired on
All this stupid stuff
I don't wanna hear about the dreams you meet
All this stupid stuff
Restless Rambos sweatin' in the Saudi heat
All this stupid stuff
Cops and thieves and retired seamen eat up
All this stupid stuff
You lose you win you come out even
All this stupid stuff
I said this feeling of failure's getting too familiar
She said all I feel is out of touch
I said most people have too little imagination
She said a few of us have too much
Wives gettin' shot by jealous husbands
All this stupid stuff
Twenty to life but she had it comin'
All this stupid stuff
When you're feeling down they'll try to pick you up
All this stupid stuff
When you're enthusiastic they've had enough of
All your stupid stuff
Now you don't seem to cry no more over
All this stupid stuff
Last time you did you forgot what for
All this stupid stuff
Who now's gonna critique those strange movies in your head
All this stupid stuff
All politics is low-cal the drunk on the barstool said
All this stupid stuff
She ain't sure he's tough enough for
All this stupid stuff
Is this true love or just a bluff
All this stupid stuff
I said there's a great big tossing ocean we could swim in
She said I don't have the time to get too deep
I said everything I could think to mention
Somewhere along the line she fell asleep
The Prophet
Copyright 1991, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
The Prophet stood upon a mountain
Above the jumbled junk yard where the
Corrupted townspeople wandered.
He fixed his sightless eyes upon the blazing sun
And proclaimed: "Your days are numbered.
"Your desires are narrow. Your plans are petty.
Your hands are sticky with blood. All your
Children can do is scream.
The stars you install shall fall down upon you.
Only in sleep do you dare to dream.
"Your cities are shattered. Your nations are burning.
You're turning in the current against the
Only birthright worth receiving.
All that remains is a cavity
You once filled up with living."
But the townspeople only mocked the Prophet.
They laughed at him and scorned him
For his failure to be the least bit funny.
And when at last he'd completely bored them
They proceeded to ignore him, and then they
Went out to look for money.
The Prophet followed a little brook
Through the highlands to its springs.
He struck it with his walking stick and
Instantly grew wings.
The townspeople saw the Prophet last that day.
They stared in wonder as he flew away.
Dark Eyes
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
Your skin's smooth as cocoa beans
Your hair hangs down in inky rings
Your eyes like an Egyptian queen's
Glitter in the moon's glow
Your face was lifted from Rimbaud
Your grace from some source I don't know
But your mysterious smile betrays your light
You're queen of the night
Now the rain is dancing
On your doorstep
You can smell it
On the air
You can sense me
There's no danger
And I never
Was a stranger
Ah dark eyes
You could wreck empires with
One incautious smile
Stay with me a while
I'll believe in you
And time will never end
I'll believe in you
And never walk alone again
And let the old hurts heal
And let the bad breaks mend
And let my strained temper bend
And dress the wound where the bullet hit
And let shattered bone knit
You are the full meaning
Of my world
I'll believe in you
I've been all shook up
I've been all shook down
Time twisted around me like a noose
Now all that trouble's come unwound
I'm not here to keep you in stitches
I'm not here to keep you entertained
I'm not here to throw your switches
Or to patch the leaks that stained
When it rained
I'm not here so baby you can drive my car
Across the battlefields of jealousy
And I can't be some shooting star
Guiding you to a fantastic destiny
I'm not here cos you knocked me cold
I've met too many porcelain dolls
I'm not here cos I'm particularly bold
Or supple enough to scale your walls
I need your faith to make it real
I'm tired of the trading on the avenue
I want you to feel the way I feel
I'm here to give my love to you
Queen of the night
In your necklace of Venus and Mars
You're pasted to eternity against
A coal-black sack of stars
Down the Line
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
I feel it's time to kick up the hawg an'
Roll on down the line
There's a better story unfoldin' somewhere out there an'
I'm gonna make it mine
I'm tired of dinin' with cannibals they're
So slow to reach fer the bill
They're too busy gorgin' themselves to make good conversation an'
I never get my fill
Clouds are racin' 'cross silver skies an'
The road's straight as a scalpel slice
Think I'll find me a girl who's a little bit stunned
Who won't notice if I say somethin' twice
I seen too many deaths an' grisly diseases
I never thought I'd have to see
An' the beautiful lady who cashes my checks
Would be the last to admit she's with me
I rubbed elbows with cynics an' various boors
Who stone those who act like they care
Then I met a professional head-hunter who kissed me an' said
What size hat do you wear
Some people sayin' ever'thing has a price an'
Only stupidity comes fer free
Soon as you turn yer back they move in fer the attack
Then cry over you at the cemetery
I'm awful tired bein' manipulated
Eight whole days a week
I'm awful tired doin'
Whatever it is I'm told
I'm sick of the alchemists 'round here
They drank all my beer an' left me
Lead where I once had gold
So I'll be rippin' down some country road, dumb
Cows be watchin' me
They ain't no good helpin' me with my map but
Least they don't spend their lives glued to TV
There's a shadow up ahead lookin' so familiar
Fer a second jest about made me ill
But it's just illusion mixed from time an' crime
Buzzard risin' up from fresh road-kill
Think I'll fire up the hawg an' rip this joint
This place ain't what I seem to recall
You can't spend all yer time bein' outta yer mind an' I
Sure can't spend all mine at the mall
This must be one of them things that you never explain
Like a lost night aboard a UFO
Think the time has come to call this thing done an'
Pack up my medicine an' go
Happy
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
Yes I'm happy now
I'm happy as spit
I'm happy now mama
Let's get on with it
Yes I'm happy now
I'm happy as can be
I'm happy now baby
Won't you come play with me
Yes I'm happy now
Since you split the scene
I'm happy now mama
Tell you everything
Yes I'm happy now
Peachy keen and fabulous
I'm happy now baby
Nothing much I miss
Yes I'm happy now
I'm ignoring reality
I'm happy now mama
And all that misery
Yes I'm happy now
I love Big Brother
Better give me the bullet quick baby
Before I start to recover
Love Among the Ruins
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
Bacchus hit a Circle K
And blew the take on wine
Apollo essayed a similar quest
And is presently serving time
An assassin gunned down the President
And demolished the golden calf
The rest of the nation mourned in earnest but
I just had to laugh
I said whatever I had to say
I did all that I could do
You gotta try to get out of the way
When the sky falls down around you
The uffish critics like political movies
But I prefer the blood and guts they scorn
They assault me with angry pop corn but
I can't help but laugh
It's a plague of moralizers taking over this place
Shoving their placards right in your face
When the swirl of events
Gets so far beyond control
You rock along while you can rock
And then you let it roll
So go on telling jokes
But if you injure someone's pride
You should have been more mindful of
Bad vibes
Aw now 'ere comes the town idiot
He wouldn't know high tragedy if it
Bit 'im in the arse
I believe he'd be amused by the world on fire
He thinks terrorist aggression's melodramatic farce
Now we're dancing in the graveyard
Dancing among the ruins
Dancing to the spectral tunes
Grooving with the ghostly singers
Dancing to destruction's beat
Dancing away hypocrisy
We'll all be worm food in one hundred years
Don't you want to dance with me
Dancing with the general's AWOL staff
Dancing around the shattered golden calf
You look a little funny honey
I just had to laugh
I'm sorry baby but
I just had to laugh
Oh no don't
Don't give me that hurt look now
Wait a minute just a minute
I didn't mean it you know I didn't I
Wait I take it back
I take it all back
You know I just couldn't help it
Come back here
Aw now
Yeah
That's more like it
Talkin' Shoppin' Blues
Copyright 1990, 2008, 2011 Ernest Bloom.
If yew wanna sweater
If yew wanna shawl
If yer way particular
Or yew gotta lotta gall
I got jest the place fer yew man
Cos these dudes got it all
Down at the mall
Down there at the mall boy
Never seen so many stores
Lotsa outta-towners like bulls
Burstin' down the doors
Divin' behind my cape I was
Lookin' wildly fer some picadors
When them pointy horns of destiny hemmed in on me I was
Contemplatin' foreign shores
Spilt yogurt sucked up fast ked
Ever'thing sparkles deathly clean
An' all them fashion divas this year are wearin'
'Lectric seasick green
Left me feelin' a little queasy I admit
An' not a little mean
Down there ever'thing's WRONG or RIGHT
But I'm some vague place in between
So sure I guess I aughter thank yew babe
Yew got me home in jest one piece
Ever' burd feels best flyin' 'round his own nest
An' fishies flounder in unfamiliar seas
An' tho' I'd prob'ly go again babe
'Specially if yew asked me please
Guess I aughter be more grateful I never caught yer
Chronic maller's disease
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