Bender Was Wrong; Or, What To Do When Locked In A Vacancy
Bender Was Wrong; Or, What To Do When Locked In A Vacancy
Part One
They tell me everybody has a story
But, baby, yours is something new.
Your spiderwebs are spelling words like 'Sympathy' and 'Gasoline'.
You've been living on the outside; touching, trying to feel cool or accepted, young or hip or something.
Well, dollface, now you're here and isn't life a gas?
You said to slow down, to ease up, to freely forget but we're not too god at that.
Your mama was a milk maid, selling her stuff to all the men in town and rumour has it a few broads.
Yeah, and your papa was a raincoat maker, always getting slick, he was, always cloaked in yellow.
And you thought I was an artist which
I guess I could have been but I don't think so.
You told me that the sky was blue and maybe we should take it out for icecream.
I want to do a thing like that.
They put your picture on the wall and painted your name in the hall.
You're a hero for not growing up a fool.
You said that once they'd locked you away and I promised there would come a day where I'd be in the Looney Bin too.
Together we get so hot that we freeze, baby, freeze,
Like Mother Nature forgot which light was on or off.
I never really did understand the lampshade you wore as a hat,
But I danced with it regardless.
People are so impersonal now but not our clan,
No, not our clan.
Hand Holding Helping Others Understand All Paradoxes We Can Make Up From A Grain Of
S A N D.
Oh, oh, you're the son of a milk maid and a raincoat maker.
I' m the daughter of a corpse defiler and a brooder.
Yeah, he'd brood while she brewed a cup of coffee with her hands.
No body told us to sit up straight,
Behave,
Eat desserts last,
We just did.
You siad that I was intuitive.
I say that you are a cup.
A cup that's filled up.
Filled up with words.
-x-
-c- November 11, 2006[xxxLips]