Sign Language

Yeah!

I know it was true by the hair on my hand,
she carried me across the land.
But now the hare can’t see the hound
and I’m caught in your Venus mound.

Well I’ve seen that place before,
when you pulled me down to the floor.
These hands that push can also bear —
articulate interior.

Pictures

I never have a problem
with what goes on in the dark.
Unless I’m with a person,
and then I come unstuck.

I always have a problem
with what goes on in the dark.
If it’s not over in a minute,
it doesn’t even start.

You are a picture of my failures.

Bad Villainy

I found my station within my station,
where everyone is connected to me,
(where everyone’s connected to me).

Oh, bad villainy!

(Come on man, keep it goin’!)
Oh, you motherfucker!
It’s the motherfucking harvest moon!
Oh, you motherfucker!
I can see your ass!

See your ass, you motherfucker.

Thunder and Wonder

Did you see me beside the altarpiece?
Under the arches, under the arches?
In November and in December
there was thunder and there was wonder.

What a place to be, this looks like death to me!
And if you saw me along the school field,
or in The Bunch of Grapes and in The Stag and Hounds,
there was thunder and there was wonder.

Bridges

Burning bridges from me to you.
A defence seems an offensive act,
now there’s nothing between us two.

Where we get lost, where our maps fail,
where the scale is unforgiving,
I have lost my way.

Still I am loss lost, I’m the sum that makes no sense.
I’m the hands that tell no time,
I am abundant recompense.

It’s good to see you, I don’t see you all the time.
My territory: the cream of the breast,
the velvet eye of the sky.

I was born in a wasteland if I was born at all
and in this desert playground
I’m hearing rock and roll.

So I’ll ask you to join me in a wasteland prayer:
for every bridge I’ve burned down,
ashes fill the air.