Mrs E Roosevelt never heard me shoot my gun
La, la, la
Mrs E Roosevelt never even knew I owned one
La, la, la
Somewhere between the cobblestone floor and the slated wooden ceiling
La, la, la
Cuddling my semiautomatic - what a very fuzzy feeling
La, la, la
Oh, there's nothing like emptying a cartridge at the sun


We're born alone and then recovered by m-m-m-mothers' kisses
La, la, la
The mind has already forgotten what the body still misses
La, la, la
Somewhere between the sticky floor and the cracks in the ceiling
La, la, la
Cuddling my semiautomatic--what a very fuzzy feeling
La, la, la
Oh, there's nothing like emptying a cartridge at the sun

In Düsseldorf I met a clown
His nose, it was red
In Gelterkinden I forgot to frown
Then remembered again
In Paris I saw a big fish
Swimming slow in the Seine
It made me hopeful that someday our
Water will be breathable again



In Frankfurt I heard ein zwei drei
Counting cookies and no one was shot
In Berlin stopped by the polizai
For drunk driving and everyone smiled
In Prague I knew I’d been a witch
Burnt alive, a pyre of soviet kitsch
It made me miss my Moscow mother
It made me miss my New York nothing



In Montpelier I stayed in a chateau
A boy climbed into my bed and knew no boundaries
And in Amsterdam I got quite crazy
Might have been all the tulips and canals
Or it might have been all that hash, and in
Barcelona - Buenos dias, chocolate, le Picasso
And in Brussels, clean-cut hostel
And in London, me and the French existentialists



In Corsica I floated away
All the way to Marseilles
I should have held an afterparty
For all the thoughts i didn’t say
In Düsseldorf I met a dwarf
With bad breath and a really good tan
In Gelterkinden I remembered how to laugh
And I never ever forgot it again

l o v e j u n k i e

weapons of mass destruction

i wanna be a disc jockey when i grow up

We are half crazed
with funk.

Play with records kids. i encourage you to play with records.

jade stars

Alone, atop the city,the tramps were still in shelter­
And moralizing lights that peered up from the murky distance
Seemed soft as our two cigarette ends burning slowly, dimly,
And careless as the jade stars that winked upon our gladness ....
And when I flicked my cigarette, and we watched it falling, falling,
It seemed a shooting meteor, that we, most proud creators,
Sent down in gay capriciousness upon a trivial Harlem—

And then I madly quoted lyrics from old kindred masters,
Who wrote of you, unknowing you, for far more lucky me­
And you sang broken bits of song, and we both slept in snatches,
And so the night sped on too swift, with grapes, and words and kisses,
And numberless cigarette ends glowing in the darkness
Old Harlem slept regardless, but a motherly old moon—
Shone down benevolently on two happy wastrel lovers ....

Molly

Down for you is Up