The reception is better
When you're lying down

Don't you lie down too soon
Or the blood might rush to your head

And I am electrifying
Myself every time
I look at a printed word
And every note that rushes through my head

Is a rush of electricity

Don't you understand?
The reception is better
On your back
When I'm on my back
I can see the stars
And everything is crazy
When lying down
Or making love

Over-developed sense of competition:

Who has to win at all
In this day and age?
Victory is so subjective
But there is no reception
And I'm passing out
Amidst the fumes
And the beat generation
Never really happened

Until now:
Something whirring through my head
And the words of Jack Kerouac
Like the words of Nabokov
And Dostoevsky
And everything is crazy

I walked outside yesterday
To try to see the moon
It was half past two in the morning
And I was only wearing boxer shorts
And a leather coat
I couldn't see the moon
But I saw so much
And it's such a shame
That the reception isn't any good
Unless I'm lying down
Or lying sideways
Across a bed of roses:
Darling, I tried to be coy
But it didn't work
And I have to tell you honestly
Everything I know
And everything I seem to feel

It's all just such an experiment
With solvent fumes
And alcohol
And making love
And everything
A new kind of tragedy
And hypocrisy
But this generation
Has something going for it
Like all the rest
And the best of us will be dead
Before anything like that ever happens
Or deigns to happen.

I'm reading a book
About everything
It doesn't really matter
Real food
Should not be thrown away
But the problems do not matter
The reception
Is breaking up
And the reception is better
When you're lying down.
Don't lie to me
I know you're lying down