To Naropa,
a little blubber in my glue, yes
And I knew you,
pigtails and all,
girls when they fall
And they said,
Mary, I ain't killed a self And I said,
not a chance, I ain't killed
a chance,
not a chance Don't you love the girls, ladies,
babes,
old bikes,
who's I?
She was so pretty,
why,
why, why,
why did she crawl down
In that old
deep ravine,
yeah Come on, pigtails, girls and all
those sailors
Watch your bags and hold down
Won't you just hold,
damn
Hold,
damn, cause it is watching my every sound
I said,
they're watching my every sound
The weasel squeaks faster than a seven day week
I said, it's a me and my purple
monkey are all
down in
Bobby's house
Making themselves
pastors and lusters and jesters and my high traitors of kind
And I'm just having thoughts, I said, I'm just
having
thoughts of
having thoughts of
having thoughts of a Marianne Ay, ay, ay,
she could have run the
fastest lap she could
Having thoughts of a Marianne Quickest girl in the frying pan