speed-written in 1994
written by: jim bellamy
Gary Skies, i've been painting me the gary seas gorilla taping all the rings that slide inside a poppy tree
o Gary Skies, i need know why blue Gary Skies cut opal seed
lo gary gary gary./..
bad boys, pistols and plums, - makes my heart seem
chilled as mute apples up above
Gary Skies, i've been painted me the gary leas vanilla caping alll of the kings which heed gold hanging babylon babies....
oo a bed of bone digs cellves as dogdayed teas
reel inside the East
la la la la...
they put pills in our motorcars -as cat-cured sunned war drove crowed stars then we danced inside rocked sleeved
sleasy ratty reeds
& we rained adown inside a seagulled town .. O-YA
the sons of lovers leapt high - ah, clowns caressed berry bombs & the Ides of Death tricked a salt sound
to sea-hang funeral facing chicken dons ?/
gary skies, oo, gary slides - we've been weeping, weeping the sleeping mind of God hears gold weed
& a daggered steed raises Gary from Laden Ladies
...bad boys raid the radios teased toys raise light's rodeos &, oo,. vagina hill is close behind such mod mumbos must be fucked
mind winter goes to Hell
Gary Skies rings a prison-bell
& bad Mummy studies fist-ducked
keen cavvies of men & woollen
scope-sheeted rosed women....
oo Gary Skies, i've been painting me the gary seas gorilla-taping all the keys which drive
inside the poppy trees
oo gary skies, i'll never know why gary dies
oo gary, gary, gary-.,.
gay gobbed horses net a naked room, as wives
widen into Buddha...
la la la lahhh uhhh././
bad boys, pistols & ploves makes my heart seem the heart of a rose bad girls, pistils & plagues makes my heart seem as old as the grave
& old handed weepers raise gary skies from out his gary sleeves
& we jump for a stereo's noisy need
Gary was god's Minotaur
Gary was love's centaur spy
Geary Gary was god's kitchen door
Glad Gary heard the Mission asking why
men and Ghosts get high...
self is a Lie??
gary gary gary skies never needsto answer why gary gary gary skies Nobodaddy licks the tides
& we run to sleep where a green Ide
locks kiosks into fingers.....
Fishy men of Alcatraz
study dry eyes..
PAID COPYRIGHT JDB 1994.