From the album "Elephant Eyelash" 



here's to inhaling crushed bones through a dried up white out pen 

and riding the backwards racer in hot june rain 

in a marching blue and gold plastic bag/poncho/raincoat. 

it's a wooden coaster with a medium hill height mean, 

high hill to flat ground ratio you know 

i'd sell my shingles for a thimble dip of snow, 

back then i'd've sold my single for a finger tip of glow. 



and us in navy blue hoodies and khakis, 

as was the style that year. 



in london, 

where the sirens yelp 

like a helpless dog with its paw stepped on, 

and the rain comes down in late july 

and the record labels call you why? 

and your eyes are slits in bags of fat, 

and your eyes are piss holes in the snow, 



i swear, 

the riders on the tube tie razors to their elbows, 

the riders on the tube keep cold coal in their billfolds, 

the riders on the tube will hide cocaine in their shelltoes 

and yes yes yes men 

they'll novacaine their hellos 

'til the constables got pit bulls 

with their paw bones all stepped on, 

'til the constables got pit bulls 

with crushed bones up their nose holes. 



and us in fish net hat and canvas shoes, 

as was the style that year.