Session 9

(Quart of Chalk)

(Robbery)

Thin man, stinged and pistol-whipped
Begins to sing with blistered lips
He sings of things; of business-sus
Like milk; they’re sick ad signaling

His tongue – the guts – the blood is white
It runs like sows in a fire fight
He’s in a room, no doors, no lights
But the sun’s in there; sits around at night

The world’s white for the missile’s son
He uses the art of the artillery one
When the sun comes in then the thing’s begun
He does all his best work when the day is done

From the head- makes songs: it’s a pile of chalk
It’ll fall but collect as it sternly walks
All about the lair as he calmly talks
Trying to light a fire
Like smashing rocks

Act IV: The Meaning of Call

Cry for all the castles, they’re surrendered to the youth
They cut out all the cancer – there’s still some living in the tooth
There’s nothing you can say – no, nothing you can do
Noone here’s a hero when it comes to the truth

I paid the rent then I pitched a tent
Cause good luck doesn’t come in twos
All I got left is fifty cents
I got the broken prostitutish blues

My wife was spent on cigarettes
She’d smile if she only knew
I built a box out of sticks and glue
I called the crackers minorettes

Wake me up; it’s time to go
This town is wretched, told ya so
Hand clapping’s the new wailin’ solo
Bump mapping’s the new holophone

This museum’s just full of men
No, I don’t believe it’s parliament
I was at a zoo just made of sick
Yeah, hospital; that’s what I said

I dreamed that I had money
Awoke and I’m just bleedin’
Outside the sky is sunny
But this tummy need a-feedin’
I went to take some honey
At a woodland creatures meetin’
I made my clothes all muddy
Like I was in a tree and
Then I made my mouth all runny
As if I were feral, seethin’
But they all just found it funny
I’m in the hospital; I’m stealin’
Drugs.