Out on a bicycle your reflection left behind
A fast-moving target is harder to define
Pedalling fast and energized by the stolen vodka and triple sec
Wheels spurting up the flecks of mud on your blue jeans and your turtleneck
I'm out on a bicycle feeling God is on my side
My mother didn't believe in discipline or the Unconscious Mind
Sleep, whenever I sleep alone I dream I dream in black, of ancestral screaming
Fight, we fight one another every afternoon, we bathe we bathe each other in the evening
Pick up pick up your tiny arm, put it round put it round the shoulder of your mother
Pick up pick up your tiny arm, put it round put it round the shoulder of your mother
Somewhere between the road and the ever darkening sky
The greediest of our hearts will not be satisfied
As it is said by the occupants who rally on the outer steps of Parliament
So it is said confidentially by the men and women working in the government:
Pick up pick up the bayonet, run it through run it through the stomach of your brother
Pick up pick up the bayonet, run it through run it through the stomach of your brother
Pick up pick up your bloody arm, put it round put it round the shoulder of your lover
Pick up pick up your bloody arm, put it round put it round the shoulder of your lover