“She was given to me to put things rightAnd I stacked all my accomplishments beside herStill I seemed so obselete and smallI found God and all His devils inside herIn my bed she cast the blizzard outA mock sun blazed upon her headSo completely filled with light she wasHer shadow fanged and hairy and madOur love-lines grew hopelessly tangledAnd the bells from the chapel went jingle-jangle”

“And she moves among the sparrows. And she floats upon the breeze. She moves among the flowers. She moves something deep inside of me”

“And I know why our friendship must be kept a secret. Or they will kill You like they killed You in the Bible. And then we could not be together. If not for them we would live in this valley together. As best friends. But we must be careful, Jesus. I think I would die if anything happened to You...' - she cried ah think, for ah could hear her little sobs as she spoke - '...just close my eyes and die.' And she let fall a heavy tear, and it passed through the slats and exploded upon mah face, just below the right cheek. And as the droplet began to roll, ah caught it with mah tongue. And ah was shocked momentarily by that tear's sweetness, having known them only as bitter things - only bitter things - always bitter things.”

“And I wish that I was made of stoneSo that I would not have to seeA beauty impossible to defineA beauty impossible to believeA beauty impossible to endureThe blood imparted in little sipsThe smell of you still on my handsAs I bring the cup up to my lipsNo God up in the skyNo devil beneath the seaCould do the job that you did, babyOf bringing me to my knees”

“So we call upon the author to explain (Doop doop doop doop dooop) Our myxomatoid kids spraddle the streets, we've shunned them from the greasy-grind The poor little things, they look so sad and old as they mount us from behind I ask them to desist and to refrain And then we call upon the author to explain (Doop doop doop doop dooop)Rosary clutched in his hand, he died with tubes up his nose And a cabal of angels with finger cymbals chanted his name in code We shook our fists at the punishing rain And we call upon the author to explain (Doop doop doop doop dooop) He said everything is messed up around here, everything is banal and jejune There is a planetary conspiracy against the likes of you and me in this idiot constituency of the moon Well, he knew exactly who to blame And we call upon the author to explain (Doop doop doop doop dooop) Prolix! Prolix! Nothing a pair of scissors can't fix! Prolix! Prolix! Nothing a pair of scissors can't fix!(Doop doop doop doop dooop) Well, I go guruing down the street, young people gather round my feet Ask me things, but I don't know where to start They ignite the power-trail ssstraight to my father's heart And once again I call upon the author to explain (Doop doop doop doop dooop ...)We call upon the author to explain Who is this great burdensome slavering dog-thing that mediocres my every thought? I feel like a vacuum cleaner, a complete sucker, it's fucked up and he is a fucker But what an enormous and encyclopaedic brain I call upon the author to explain (Doop doop doop doop dooop ...) Oh rampant discrimination, mass poverty, third world debt, infectious diseease Global inequality and deepening socio-economic divisions Well, it does in your brain And we call upon the author to explain (Doop doop doop doop dooop ...) Now hang on, my friend Doug is tapping on the window (Hey Doug, how you been?) Brings me back a book on holocaust poetry complete with pictures Then tells me to get ready for the rain And we call upon the author to explain (Doop doop doop doop dooop ...) I say prolix! Prolix! Something a pair of scissors can fix Bukowski was a jerk! Berryman was best! He wrote like wet papier mache, went the Heming-way weirdly on wings and with maximum pain We call upon the author to explain (Doop doop doop doop dooop ...) Down in my bolthole I see they've published another volume of unreconstructed rubbish "The waves, the waves were soldiers moving". Well, thank you, thank you, thank you And again I call upon the author to explain Yeah, we call upon the author to explain Prolix! Prolix! There's nothing a pair of scissors can't fix!”

“You searched through all my poets,From Sappho through to Auden,I saw the book fall from your hands,As you slowly died of boredom.”

“I don't believe in an interventionist GodBut I know, darling, that you doBut if I did I would kneel down and ask HimNot to intervene when it came to youNot to touch a hair on your headTo leave you as you areAnd if He felt He had to direct youThen direct you into my armsInto my arms, O LordInto my arms, O LordInto my arms, O LordInto my armsAnd I don't believe in the existence of angelsBut looking at you I wonder if that's trueBut if I did I would summon them togetherAnd ask them to watch over youTo each burn a candle for youTo make bright and clear your pathAnd to walk, like Christ, in grace and loveAnd guide you into my armsInto my arms, O LordInto my arms, O LordInto my arms, O LordInto my armsAnd I believe in LoveAnd I know that you do tooAnd I believe in some kind of pathThat we can walk down, me and youSo keep your candlew burningAnd make her journey bright and pureThat she will keep returningAlways and evermoreInto my arms, O LordInto my arms, O LordInto my arms, O LordInto my arms”