| Lyrics: | Taken from Walt Whitman's "Song of Myself", from _Leaves of Grass_)
1 You there,
impotent, loose in the knees,
Open your scarf'd chops till I blow grit within you,
Spread your palms and lift the flaps of your pockets,
I am not to be denied...
Mine
is no callous shell,
I have instant conductors all over me
[repeat
1]
2 I merely stir, press, feel with my fingers,
...and that's about as much as
I can stand.
--
END OF city.slab.horror FILE
--
Dave Watson, Severed
Heads Liberation Front (Re-release the _Stretcher_ EP!)
Frezier Balzoff (Ottawa), Ontario,
Canada [email protected]
"A man is measured by the depth of his
anger."--Eddie
"Everyone in this room is wearing a uniform, and don't kid yourself!"--Zappa |
