groovy two shoes

[revolutionR]

The shack of the dead genius
slimy thoughts drinking moon diamonds
stranger to himself opening a can of beans
sunlight creeping in through stabs of dark
radio playing old songs about love and pain
fingers hit keys like zero letters cut into bone
sounds escape from wordless blood pulse
shit gets said and nothing gets done
little dogs yapping outside at the outside
sometimes the yaps turn into cries of mineral torment
inside the dead genius explores the back rooms behind of his mind
once dragsters screamed smoking wheels of teenage sex
once young girls smiled in his direction with come hither look
once he wandered the wet streets with tears of reflection
all lonesome for tiki gods fuzzy dice switchblades and spanish fly
back when beatniks were kings of the jazz night
all words were his then and no word did not say anything
all he needed to do was say the word and it was the word
it always fit into his secret little box of trinkets and charms
all he needed to do was pull out a shadow cloak and wear it
and now he was what coolness was made of as he slid out the door
the world was his cherry to pop his house of the rising sun to sin in
and he had a lot of sinning to do and young girls hearts to break
even if they only broke his before he could break theirs
but he was bent on finding the one that beat to his own luny tune
so he put on his best heart breaker neato and slicked his groovy two shoes

[Unk]

yeah

[judih]

when there's no more surface to scratch
the essential spirit takes over

[revolutionR]

i'm in my scratch pad.