With deuces wild and nickels and dimes rolling the dice discarding my sanity and Mr. Potato Head even if not Parcheesi giving no spoilers over whiskey waters using the bottle flute painting my dreams red even if not Parcheesi
All alone in this dung heap a little bit dead biting the bullet off with my head this shit doesn't come cheap suffering the whatnots all alone in my bed ashes to ashes, dust to dust need some oil, heart full of rust all alone in this dung heap
Memories of conversations and a penny's worth of sawdust. Is there a heaven? Mom said there was. With unicorns and porch swings. She would take me in her arms and hug me. Touching my cheek with her tears as she passed, with a penny's worth of sawdust in her hair. Among the memories of wood shavings on the floor. Now she is in heaven with "the carpenter's son."
My soul is my gothic violin with the bow of the picador played softly in solo in the world of my dark oyster warming my marrows blood running cold in a caravan with a melody of strings and the madness it brings fathoms deep among the dead... my soul is my gothic violin
Moonlight dancing over silent waters gently flowing over soft quarters across stones and leaves of caravels cascading over the water mill of my mind as heaven in all its glory shines lighting the golden pond with the water that has past gently flowing over soft quarters moonlight dancing over silent waters
Fly me a rainbow with a kite's sail gliding over meadows of indigo back to my mom's purse where it began in memories of many Autumns ago scattering leaves of tied dyed prayers when I wore Buster Brown shoe like a canvas of wintergreen beneath a breeze of cello as the leaves whisper Longfellow of butterflies soft and mellow when I wore Buster Brown shoes
Intoxicated metamorphosis keeping time in the twilight where life and death begin lusting sweet Cyanide in ravenous pure ecstasy and raging bonfires with fingertips in pantomime intoxicated metamorphosis