Miracles exist,
|
So many that it’s shocking.
|
Surely we can't resist,
|
To sometimes go Sherlocking.
|
This hairpin is a clue,
|
If this headstone is a mystery
|
Whose tenant has been screwed
|
By high wind and history.
|
|
There is a snake inside the office.
|
There is a weight inside the airplane.
|
The scientist creates
|
Another strain.
|
|
The pin-up was pent-up,
|
Her patience was spent up,
|
On clothing and close-ups,
|
And 2 minute touch ups.
|
Blown by the airbrush,
|
Dolled up and drugged up,
|
By 5 minute fuck ups,
|
With hairbrush and blood lust.
|
But now that she’s safe,
|
And away from the scene,
|
She keeps getting voicemail,
|
On her message machine.
|
They sing,
|
“Call me when you want to have it all again.”
|
|
Leave a teardrop on the rooftop,
|
To evaporate at dawn.
|
Maybe it's an SOS for who it falls upon.
|
I know that it’s a long shot,
|
But it's one I'm counting on.
|
|
Dreaming Dimwits take a stand,
|
On this night we must demand,
|
Let the microscope be damned,
|
By the hammers in our hands.
|
|
Calmly we’re dissolving
|
On the exit frame.
|
|
These are unusual fissions.
|
|
-----------------
|
The End
|
| Les Savy Fav |
