Mountainous pictures of colored seas
appear upon my face
And the jaustic smoke of scent
dis solves forever in its place
The shadowy friends that line the walls
all dream while laying down
While the window tapping silhouette
In rain begins to drown
In the room of percussion
The disco should slide
As you enter through the door
And the one -armed bandit
laughs aloud
And disappears once more
Foolish thoughts of ecstasy are dead
But without much concern
In the harp, my hopes by millions
lay twisted as they burn
The crooked faces of clocks
appear and die in nightmare dreams
While juggling music surrounds us both
and turns our thoughts to screams
In the room of percussion,
the discussion slides
as you enter through the door
And the water band,
it laughs aloud
and disappears once more
My God, the spiders are everywhere
With ruby wine and our tangled nerves,
our mouths flap in despair.
And with tumbled words of poetry,
we try to prove we care.
But the glowworm light
of creativeness
moves out into the rain.
And the jostling dies and disappears,
its scent alone remains
In the room of percussion,
the discussion slides
as you enter through the door
And the one -armed bandit
laughs aloud
and disappears once more
In the room of percussion,
the discus just slides
as you enter through the door
And the one -off bandit
laughs aloud
and disappears once more
My God, the spiders are everywhere