my sketchbook of whack / lyrics







low on sugar

i’m low on sugar that’s why i left my baby
i’m low on sugar, i love my baby
she’s a permanent fallout hangover type of tomboy

i’m blowing the horn, i left my baby
blowing that horn, i left my baby
i’m a premature bee-licking hot rod shockproof pal

i’m low on sugar, i left my baby
she’s a sick-cat space-brat doubledeck bikini tan maze

blah blah blah.....




para nuestros creativos

paso por una repentina ausencia de inspiracion,
por una total imposibilidad creativa





uriella

k7 epk - k6 jtr
san francisco
i have a message

there's no one who can take it from you
it is your god-given right
all you gotta do is let go

there's no one who can take it from you
ooooh...
it is your god-given right
we are free today

the importance of communication
something else is coming
the ship up in the air
weird, by athmospheric distortion
they popped like toothpicks

huge waves coming down
big, big balls of fire
a very very heavy turbulence

a crippled state, thousands of anxious people
first contact
i tried to get back to the ship
seawaves up to 30, 35 feet
please stay off the beaches
the downtown area has been blocked off
i could see this big pile of water rising up
get out of those lowland areas
back to the ship
down here you are the first contact anyone has had
the ship up in the air
and then down
and then back up again

we are free today
a crippled state
the ship up in the air and then
thousands of anxious people
get out
a crippled state
the cold and lonely night
the ship is not supposed to leave now
persons missing and dead

standby

it is your right
the ship began to toot real rapidly
i could tell
and then there was something really important happening

free, free, free....
please take me home
free, free, free....
please take me home
take me home

i'm flowing along....





postcard from a foreign strand


I hold your hand
and in your eyes I see first celebrations

a super 8
a birthday cake
a puppy dog lungs first inhalation

I hold your breath
and in your fainting eyes I see relief
my hand upon your body soft goes numb

a postcard from a foreign strand






is it me?

How many times have you heard
How many more have you seen
Why does it rise when it's sleeping by your side
How soft the sound of your eyes
is it me or just another way to make it
that made up your mind
is it me or just another way to fake it
tell me honeypie

is it me or just another way to make it
that made up your mind
is it me or just another
tell me honey I can take it

How many logs have you burned
How many more have you turned into compost
Door banging noise, house broken bilge
How soft the lies your smile surprises






all busted

priveleged child held in trust, holding hands in daddy's pocket
taking powders by the hour with johnny in his snakeskin jacket
since she broke her pace she hit the streets shuffling
hot breath crystals on restaurant windows
her lips all busted bleeding, her life all busted

pampered pets and pooches
manicured and well-heeled ladies
painted nails and piled-high coiffures

pampered pets and pooches
manicured and well-heeled ladies
painted skin and sky-high clamours
no wonder she's fucked-up and crazy






vorwärts, die zeit


sang der gesänge
heb' dich zur sonne
faulheit und schlendrian
alte gewohnheit

vorwärts
vorwärts
vorwärts, die zeit!






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