| Lyrics: | (Don Van Vliet)
Are you with me on this, people?
The man with the woman
head
Polynesian wallpaper made the face stand out,
a mixture of Oriental and early
vaudeville jazz poofter,
forming a hard, beetle-like, triangular chin much like a praying
mantis.
Smoky razor-cut, low on the ear neck profile.
The face the color of a
nicotine-stained hand.
Dark circles collected under the wrinkled, folded eyes,
map-like from
too much turquoise eyepaint.
He showed his old tongue through ill-fitting wooden
teeth,
stained from too much opium, chipped from the years.
The feet, brown wrinkles above
straw loafers.
A piece of cocoanut in a pink seashell caught the tongue and knotted into thin
white strings.
Charcoal grey Eisenhower jacket zipped into a load of green ascot.
A coil of
ashes collected on the white-on-yellow dacs.
Four slender bones with rings and nails endured the
weight of a hard fast black rubber cigarette holder.
I could just make out Ace as he carried the
tray and mouthed,
"You cheap son of a bitch" as a straw fell out of a Coke, cartwheeled into the
gutter.
So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood,
So this was a drive-in restaurant in
Hollywood,
So this was a drive-in restaurant in Hollywood. |
