Our lady on the wall selling poppies for Our Boys. Our price. Our choice.
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we bought one-watched Our Lady fly confetti fly the city die in flames as
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tanks spat amber at the Odeon. A soldier on the podium. One leg, a face
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that's splashed with egg... a roadmap stained by cherry brandy, cracking
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jokes about The Jerry. And we snatched his helmet, pissed and blew our
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whistles with the steam. The kettle boiling, so we stamped and screamed for
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China tea. Were playing Shanghai in the cloisters, sucking oysters, dipping
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fingers, finding pearls the size of avadado pears. The treasure's there - a
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shame there's nowhere left to spend it... Shall we share the powdered milk
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and wait for God?
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Our Lady In Kharki
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| The Legendary Pink Dots |
