ghost song

awake. shake dreams from your hair

my pretty child

my sweet one. choose the day and choose the sign of your day

the day's divinity

first thing you see. a vast radiant beach in a cool jeweled moon

couples naked race down by it's quiet side

and we laugh like soft

mad children

smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy

the music and voices are all around us. choose they croon the ancient ones

the time has come again

choose now

they croon

beneath the moon

beside an ancient lake

enter again the sweet forest

enter the hot dream

come with us

everything is broken up and dances. indians scattered

on dawn's highway bleeding

ghosts crowd the young child's

fragile eggshell mind

we have assembled inside

this ancient and insane theater

to propagate our lust for life

and flee the swarming wisdom of the streets. the barns have stormed

the windows kept

and only one of all the rest

to dance and save us

from the divine mockery of words

music inflames temperament. ooh great creator of being

grant us one more hour

to perform our art

and perfect our lives. we need great golden copulations

when the true kings murderers

are allowed to roam free

a thousand magicians arise in the land

where are the feast we are promised?