what i feel when i'm playing guitar is completely cold and crazy, like i
don't owe nobody nothing and it's just a test just to see how far i can
relax into the cold wave of a note when everything hits just right (just
and right) the note of nobility can go on forever i never tire of the
solitary E and i trust my guitar and i don't care about anything
sometimes i feel like i've broken through and i'm free and i could dig
into eternity into eternity riding the wave and realm of the E sometimes
it's useless here i am struggling and filled with dread-afraid that i'll
never squeeze enough graphite from my damaged cranium to inspire or
asphyxiate any eyes grazing like hungry cows across the stage or page
inside of me i'm crazy i'm just crazy inside i must continue i see her,
my stiff muse, jutting around round round round like a broken speeding
statue the colonial year is dead and the greeks too are finished the
face of alexander remains not only solely due to sculpture but through the
power and foresight and magnetism of alexander himself the artist must
maintain his swagger he must he must he must be intoxicated by ritual as
well as result look at me i am laughing i am laughing i am lapping
cocaine from the hard brown palm of the bouncer and i trust my guitar
therefore we black out together therefore i would run through scum and
scum is just ahead, ah we see it, but we just laugh we're ascending
through the hollow mountain we are peeking we are laughing we are
kneeling we are laughing we are radiating at last this rebellion is
just a gas our gas a gas that we pass