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letra de walt whitman's beard - the spent poets

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h-ll’s a golf course
that sways like a drunken sailor
in the tropicana breezes
and everyone there has day-glo suntans
and people try too hard to look like
mr. sammy davis jr
and jesus tends the green
the tips fall through his hands

let’s talk about it
let’s talk about it
scream and shout it

throw my ashes right up to the wind
and let the motion be a metaphor
that i might travel right back in time
and rest my head on
walt whitman’s beard
walt whitman’s beard
on walt whitman’s beard
walt whitman’s beard

heaven’s a bar then i have seen
rasputin and james dean
holding hands while dirty drinks i pour
and his holiness pulls out his proudness
a polyester leisure suit
and andy warhol runs screaming for the door

let’s talk about it
let’s talk about it
scream and shout it

throw my ashes right up to the wind
and let the motion be a metaphor
that i might travel right back in time
and rest my head on
walt whitman’s beard
walt whitman’s beard
on walt whitman’s beard
walt whitman’s beard

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