White Moon

(albüm: Get Behind Me Satan - 2005)

White Moon, White Moon breaks open the tune
Of a deserted cartoon that I wrote
Creature come, creature, creature, my own double-feature
As I'm warming the bleachers at home

Well, my nose keeps on bleeding 'cause it's Rita I'm needing
I better call out a meeting of the boys
Of the boys

My friends are all dying, and death can't be lying
It's the truth and it don't make a noise
Oh Rita, oh Rita, if you lived in Reseda
I would move you with the beat of a drum
And this picture is proof that although you're aloof
You had the shiniest tooth 'neath the sun

Easy come, easy go, be a star of the show
I'm giving up all I know to get more
To get more

Photograph the picture, young grunt pin-up scripture
For the locker-tagged memories of war
A mirage, this garage and the photo montage
And the finger massage from the host

Good Lord, good Lord, the one I adored
That I cannot afford is a ghost
Is a ghost

Proto-social is the word, and the word is the bird
That flew through the herd in the snow
In the snow

Lemonade me, then grade me, then deliver my baby
And if my friends all persuade me, I'll go
Blink, blink at me Rita, don't you know I'm a bleeder?
And I promised I wouldn't lead her on

But she read me, then led me, and I ate what was fed me
'Til I purged every word in this song