(R. Pollard - J. Pollard)



8 stone Sunday lobster

Subway cars roll in

Building of coffins

Build me a coffin

Pour me some coffee

White house radar readings

"The last text on village firearms"



My dad eats shit and barks at the moon

And Mr. Gene-o holds the spoon - he said so



Sun-tanned bodies floating in ice cream

Worries carried away - hey

On distant mushroom clouds

I talk very loud

He says "Mind your manners"

I do, but don't think so



My dad eats shit and barks at the moon

And Mr. Gene-o holds the spoon - he said so



I eat with my hands

He says "Pray for forgiveness"

I do but don't think so

I bark at the moon

He says "Stay within reach"

I do

I do but don't think so

I do Mr. Gene-o

I do but don't think so

I do Mr. Gene-o

Fuck you Mr. Gene-o