Aburi

Polka-dots ran down the sink, polka, polka, polka rythms round us.My only sadness is that of the rain, unstoppable rain coming from that sink down the earth and on dog lashes crying for its wet nose...it has become dry and he no more sees my polka-dots.Where am I?I ask you dog, what shall I do?My polka-dots have become dull.

Nails in red, nails in green, leaves on your forehead.Oh Dear you're all mud and jam, pouring from my little naughty heart, you see?My organic perception is because of that doomed tuliphead!Let's pop their heads off!They are hideous, aren't they, Darling?

Oh, that sparkling moon!I would scratch all that gold from it if I could and I would rap it around my body.I could sing and enchant you with my false joy and I could touch your deepest senses only by pretending.I would then run and cry, for having brought unreal life and plastic lies and shallow art and meaningless music.

Tambourines, tambourines, tambourines and nothing can stop me now!I will rip your green skin to find that blue blood, to find that written in your veines, that phrase for which I crave!Your brains shall not ressurect until I say so!You will be stone dead for you have betrayed my hope.

I live too much, but not enough.