letra de the month after - the legendary pink dots
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under the table and down in the pit with out plastic
potatoes and joe-joe the dove on the spit. on the
spoons you made rhythm; i whistled the blues cos
my throats been misused and my voice is a crack in
the tar. in the jar is a tablet they sent in the post
with a pamphlet. with an order; “take this when the
pain gets too much!” i confess i feel nothing at all . .
i’m bored and you’re bald, but i laughed when you
called me the snail. my red trail runs behind me
i’m guilty, no secrets. you’re not such a picture
yourself–but your brown eyes i know so very well
they’re sadder and wiser; we’ve finally been
through it all. now our time’s slowly ticking away
do you think there’s a heaven? backwards: i feel nothing at all)
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