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pepper (butthole surfers v. sylvia plath remix)

Hope was the thing with feathers.
How she hates us. Lady Lazarus
only 30, unwrapped in hand and foot.
Tulip was too excitable,
the winter came she froze.
Misty walked out into the sun,
the air was a mill of hooks.
Luna has a face in her own right,
With the O-gape of horrible despair.
Yew wasn’t sweet like Mary,
she unleashed small bats and owls.

I don’t mind the sun sometimes
the images it shows
I can taste you on my lips
and smell you in my clothes
Cinammon and sugary
and softly spoken lies
You never just how you look
through other peoples eyes

A woman bends over me, searching the reaches.
In me she has drowned a young girl, an old
woman rises towards her day by day.
Susan cut an onion’s thumb,
jumped, trepanned, thumb’s stump.
I don’t mind the sun sometimes
the images it shows
I can taste you on my lips
and smell you in my clothes
Cinammon and sugary
and softly spoken lies
You never just how you look
through other peoples eyes

Ariel stood still, black sweet blood mouthfuls.
Electra died, six feet of yellow gravel cover her,
the rains dissolve a bloody dye.
Miss Drake was no novice,
in these elaborate rituals–
devoured and dragged down into the carpet’s design.

Some will die in hot pursuit
In fiery auto crashes
Some will die in hot pursuit
while sifting thru my ashes
Some will fall in love with life
and drink it from a fountain
that is pouring like an avalanche
coming down the mountain

My own blue razor rusting at my throat.
O pardon the one who knocks for pardon at
Your gate, father – your hound-bitch, daughter, friend.
It was my love that did us both to death.

THEY WERE ALL IN LOVE WITH DYING,
THEY WERE DOING IT IN TEXAS.

!!!CHORUS!!!

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