letra de babelogue - patti smith
babelogue
i haven’t f-cked much with the past,
but i’ve f-cked plenty with the future.
over the skin of silk are scars
from the splinters of stations
and walls i’ve caressed.
a stage is like each bolt of wood,
like a log of helen, is my pleasure.
i would measure the success of a night
by the way by the way by the amount of p-ss and seed
i could exude over the columns that nestled the p.a.
some nights i’d surprise everybody by skipping off
with a skirt of green net sewed over
with flat metallic circles which dazzled and flashed.
the lights were violet and white.
i had an ornamental veil, but i couldn’t bear to use it.
when my hair was cropped, i craved covering,
but now my hair itself is a veil,
and the scalp inside is a scalp of
a crazy and sleepy comanche
lies beneath this netting of the skin.
i wake up. i am lying peacefully
i am lying peacefully and my knees are open to the sun.
i desire him, and he is absolutely ready to seize me.
in heart i am a moslem;
in heart i am an american;
in heart i am moslem,
in heart i’m an american artist,
and i have no guilt.
i seek pleasure.
i seek the nerves under your skin.
the narrow archway; the layers;
the scroll of ancient lettuce.
we worship the flaw, the belly, the belly,
the mole on the belly of an exquisite wh-r-.
he spared the child and spoiled the rod.
i have not sold myself to god.
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