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lyrics

The mystic kiss of Whitman and Mr. Wilde
Has landed on my lips and I don't know how
To pass it on before the moment's gone
To drop my transatlantic bomb into your smile

Goodnight, Bob Denver, you ain't never going home
You're stuck here with the skipper and me
But don't give up, 'coz sometimes dreams get lifted up
To land on someone else's island for a while

Years just go, moment they flow
Little kisses and near misses, they come and go

The thunder is creeping and the lightning is in bloom
The whole town is sleeping
Except maybe me, and except maybe you
A quiet storm is coming in from the west wall
And Joshu's dog is howling in the hall

Bad times get left behind
When you turn up with your hard-on
And your cheap red wine
You bring your bongoes and your John Coltrane
Your epiphany in Mahler in the middle of the rain

I got American jazz nowhere blowing in my brain
I got light on your face
And sound coming in at the main vein

Bootsy's truth and truth is Bootsy
That's all I know or I ever need to know
Open the window, turn up the bass
Let's feel the psychic wind blowing cool on our faces

You be Basho, I'll be the moon in the lake
Fall right in, I promise my arms won't break
We'll pass the Ten Bulls, maybe The Gateless Gate
And end up meeting Lao Tze over coffee and cake

I got a ticket from Walden to Paradise Garage
From CBGBs to the fall of the Raj
I got a ghost shirt, a pillow, an umbrella full of stars
And you can have it all if I can come for the laugh

We are the carpetbaggers, the Bewlay Brothers
Savants maybe, maybe just dumb motherfuckers
Caught in a minute on the frontside of dawn
Standing on the verge of gettin' it on

I spent too much time waiting to be born
Standing on the verge of getting' it on
At the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month
It's just you, me, here, at the frontside of dawn
Standing on the verge of getting' it on.

credits

from Faggot Anthems And Drug Ballads: An Adventure In Lo Fidelity, released March 1, 2006

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