Psicodelia Colectiva
"...manifestando a la mente..."

THE SEVERED GARDEN AN AMERICAN PRAYER

Category: By CHIMPA


Wow I'm sick of doubt
Live in the light of certain
South
Cruel Bindings
The servants have the power
dog-men & their mean women
pulling poor blankets over our sailors
I'm sick of dour faces
Staring at me from the T.V. Tower.
I want roses in my garden bower, dig?
Royal babies, rubies
must now replace aborted
Strangers in the mud
These mutants, blood-meal
For the plant that's plowed

They are waiting to take us
into The Severed Garden

Do you know how pale and wanton thrillful
comes death on a strange hour unannounced,
unplanned for like scaring over-friendly
guest you've Brought to bed
Death makes angels of us all
& gives us wings
where we once had shoulders
smooth as raven's claws
No more money, no more fancy dress
This other kingdom seems by far the best
Until it's other jaw reveals incest
I will not go
Prefer a Feast of Friends
To the Giant Family
 

1 comment so far.

  1. firstcomet 15 de septiembre de 2007, 20:59
    Nice video! It captures the spirit of the moment.

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