Building moving sculptures, Am7 (Am7Barre12) G (A Barree 10) D(E Barree10)
along an endless road.
It are moving targets, F G Am (A Barree 8, 10, 12)
Delivered by plane loads.
Skulls wiggling on long poles,
Hip bones eaten bare,
Eyes flying over my head.
Lips forming over my ears.
Imprinting words in my wringled soul,
Weaving star shapes into my outer lobes.
Wax flakes melting in my hands,
Smearing them out over an expanding shoulder curve.
Legs kicking asses,
Hands grabbing tits.
Praying to the evening sun,
Bowing to the planets at night.
Hearts ticking at wrong places,
Hearts bending in wrong ways.
Cranes bringing in some new flesh,
Scraped off of living creatures.
Hapnetic circles turning,
Clockworks springing into shape.
Silver armies slowly moving,
Tired soldiers crawling
to their well hidden places,
fearing the imminent future,
waiting for their fate.
Green yellow crickets
singing by the thousands,
Salamanders licking their lips.
Vultures hanging in their place,
Floating in the air,
Floating in the time.