Album: Brighten the Corners: Nicene Creedence Edition

Three o' three.. the seconds they are sequins

And the minute string, ravelled 'round the mannequin


Of formless space, a party line at last that we can

All embrace - and segue to the burning masses!



Ten to eleven.. don't question.. just get in

I think that we are losing a way

Westie… you cannot drum



Half past noon, visualize a centaur baying

At the moon.. his profile is a silver circle

Brings to mind the portraits on the coinages and

Lincoln's beard, and why's he got a horse's body?



(Griffin, a cruiser) you'll love her.. you'll lose her

I think that we are losing our way

Westie.. you cannot drum



Five nineteen, deluded like a Dixie-Crat..

I don't ya

Clog latrine, and clean it like a Dixie-Crat..

And deck the halls with spirulina



Dry route to Devon

So great, like Heaven

I think that we are losing a way

Westie.. you cannot drum

No.. Westie.. you cannot drum

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