Windows rattle w/ contempt peeling back a ring of dead roses
Soon it will rain blue landscapes leading us to suffocation.
Walls structured high in a circle of oiled brick-legs of tin-Stonehedge tumbles. What about her? The wages of sin What about him? He's getting closer And what about the bells? Nipples licking the clouds. everyone is standing in boxes pulsating w/ the silver needles. I've got no name or box to stand in leading me to suffocation. Give of fire from her throne beltching cloak/Electra. we were made to fill our shoes w/ clay to sleep on river beds I awoke electra descending mounts the bridal gown of Jocasta windows rattle w/ contempt peeling back a ring of dead roses.
Chorus-What about her?... (for googoomuck & Orgueil)