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No one’s united,
all things are untied: I’m embalmed with tubes (it’s like someone died), And these min’st’ring nurses who keep me tongue-tied Could use some pointers on polite bedside. |
Cards to the players,
three good players. One card, the man takes one. Cards to the players, three good players. One card, the man takes one. |
It’s time, I think:
We’re sneaking out The hospital to make my own luck. I wanna get into a new plot (One where you got a shot at the pot), And be a man with style who can smile amid amok. “Gotta play to win a hand,” And “You gotta stay to play”; “Gotta give to get action,” And “You gotta give to stay”: I’ve been told that that’s what the Man Has said over my head. “So sneak out your hospital bed.” |
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No part’s united, all boiling
inside: My world’s a mess, and like I already died, ‘Cause the wires all skewed in my face got me tied. I’m not a player in my life, I’ve been railroaded to hiding. |
Cards to the players, three
good players. One card, the man takes one. Cards to the players, three good players. One card, the man takes one. |
It’s time, I think:
We’re sneaking out The hospital; that’s where you abdicate From a meaning to a mess, Like, “Marmalade cats press Their convict-flavored hy’cinth license plates.” “Happens to the best, hear-tell”: That’s what some people say; Then others, something else: “Another hand, a new winner’s day.” I’ve been told that that’s what He tells When He’s standing o’er my bed. “So sneak outta your hospital head.” |
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So do you ever feel like
you got stuck in a cineplex hall With four movies going and there’s open doors to all? A cocophony of different scores (flushing mush amplified), And the dialogues smear into absurd post-Dada asides. They all might be the same flick, just started five minutes apart; astride, You think you’ve maybe been discarded to the Valley of Undecide. |
Hey Wheezy, who doomy Cassandra
henpecks; Hey Elmo, making Grouchland an annex; Hey Tigger, who could use some Zanex, like Rex; Hey Buzz Lightyear, with your space cadet codex; Hey Chicken Little, so sure the sky’s falling; And Hey Stuart Little: I think our Dad’s calling. |
A brain united is a brain
that’s unfried: This melocoma’s been telling me lies. I wanna feel the clouds coat my throat as they slide, And exhale these demons outta my insides. |
Cards to the players, three
good players. One card, the man takes one. Cards to the players, three good players. One card, the man takes one. |
It’s time, I
think, for sneaking out the hospital. Words never make sense during secret wars. But play it past, take it to next, And take it outta it’s context, And then you’ll find your way through sliding double doors. “Gotta play to win a hand,” And “You gotta stay to play”; “Gotta give to get action,” And “You gotta give to stay”: I’ve been told that that’s what the Man Has said over my head. “So sneak out this hospital bed.” “Happens to the best, hear-tell”: That’s what some people say; Then others, something else: “ Another hand, a new winner’s day.” I’ve been told that that’s what He tells When He’s standing o’er my bed. “So sneak outta your hospital head.” What I’m gonna tell you now is not public knowledge, What I’m gonna tell you now is: “Next case!” |