Awake, shake dreams from your hair, my pretty child, my sweet one
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day, the day's divinity, first thing you see
A vast radiant beach and a cool jeweled moon, couples naked race down by its quiet side
and we laugh like soft, mad children smug in the woolly cotton brains of infancy
The music and voices are all around us
Choose, they croon, the ancient ones, the time has come again
Choose now, they croon, beneath the moon beside an ancient lake
Enter again the sweet forest, enter the hot dream, come with us
Everything is broken up and dances
Indians scattered on dawn's highway bleeding
ghosts crowd the young child's fragile egg-shell world
We have assembled inside this ancient and insane theater to propagate our lust for life
and flee the swarm of wisdom in the streets
The barns are stormed, the window is kept, and only one of all the rest to dance and
save us from the divine mockery of words, music, and flames' temperament
O great creator of being, grant us one more hour to perform our art and perfect our lives
We need great golden copulations
When the true king's murderers are allowed to roam free, a thousand magicians rise to the land
Where are the feasts we were promised?
Where are the feasts we were promised?
Where are the feasts we were promised?
Where are the feasts we were promised?
One more thing
Thank you, O Lord, for the white blind light
Thank you, O Lord, for the white blind light
A city rises from the sea
I had a splitting headache from which the future is made
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