ayatollah

ayatollah (pick, halsted, harris)

i think i went to the supermarket

i think i bought an ayatollah

i think i went to the supermarket

i think i bought an ayatollah

i took it home and tried to love it

it ain't worth the bother (ask jimmy carter)

it ain't worth the bother

i tried to sell it to the russians

they wouldn't offer me a dollar.

said it was hungry,

so we went to the ritz

said it was hungry so we went to the ritz

the doorman grabbed me by the collar

(he said) 'long beards and robes give me the shits.'

'long beards and robes give me the shits.'

i said he was a mullah (it wasn't any use though but)

i said he was a mullah

he said 'you can't come in here with an ayatollah.'

'you can't come in here with an ayatollah.'

it just ain't fair, the shit you have to swaller

walk out on the street and you hear em holler

they say ‘religion’s all part of your savage squalor’

no-one loves a boy with an ayatollah.

no-one loves a god with an iron collar

every sinner saved in the new gommorrah

you better watch out cos there'll be more tomorrah

whaddoo i care; there's no reason for me to bother,

i was the first kid on my block with an ayatollah !

now lorraine chase has bought one !

an ayatollah in every home !

whole nations of ayatollahs !

listen here fella.

there's a new fire breaking over.

it's time to bow down to allah !

jihad, baby ! jihad, baby ! jihad, baby !

jihad, baby baby baby baby baby baby baby better don the veil, baby baby better don the veil, yeh.

how can it fail, how can it fail, how can it fail,

how can it fail ?

you wouldn't want your buddies to think you were yella......

i got a brand new ayatollah

i got a brand new ah ha ha ayatollah ayatollah ayatollah ayatollah ayatollah ayatollah allah hu akbar.

baby grenade (harris, pick)

she has terrible beauty, an unaccountable style,

i could make it my duty, to be hers for a while;

my perception's estranged

in an unnatural way

and my hair's disarranged

for baby grenade.........

love like suns - let's increase it - release it........

i could make it my duty

to be hers for a while

i think i'd die if she'd shoot me

one lingering smile;

two things would remain

if life were replayed

perpetual change

and baby grenade........

let it flow - i'll receive it - believe it..........

heart of the matter (harris, pick, halsted)

love can be brittle/shiver the mirror

life can belittle/oaths and affections -

still the passion

cease the fusion

break the illusion

strip off the veil

love can shatter

it can tear you apart

the heart of the matter

an affair of the heart........

truth can be bartered/time is a stranger

love can be martyred/in a new season -

speech is halting

reason's faulty

dreams are salted

with kisses like tears, kisses like tears, kisses like tears.

science (pick, halsted, harris)

(Jackson Pollock, in his trance,

celebrating paint and skin

knew citadels of eloquence

as places men hang wardrobes in.)

Cæser's rotting in his chair

the question's not of this or that

there's little left worth saving here

I'd have the dead wolves chew our fat.

Excalibur was not our sword

but borrowed from the elements

civilised's a bartered word

defined by mere self-reference.

We have angered savage Gods.

Even now you hear them roar

you tinker with the crazed machine

as sequences of lightning pour.

Can we acknowledge higher power ?

What man is not indictable ?

The death-throes of the dinosaur

make atom-bombs excitable.

Mazy truth has clicked its lock,

empiricists imperious.....

mystery's a ticking box

and all things are mysterious.

Crippled remnants of our lie

make us remain the quiet men

lest Napalm, pouring from the sky

must save us from ourselves again.

love goes hungry (harris, pick, halsted)

love goes hungry/truth is silent/sounds are angry/colours violent.

i lived in the city but the city was angry

i watched as the pieces fell into place

i left the city tangled and twisted

ran with my mistress, fled in disgrace...

secret lovers/music's over/cars are moving/walk together/

holds her there/she holds him tight/hearts say (love)/mouths stay quiet.

i lived in the city but the city was angry

i watched as the pieces fell into place

i left the city tangled and twisted

ran with my mistress, fled in disgrace

dreams and people/fill a sequence/switch the light out/make pretence/ past his window/death is feeding/sees her go/his eyes are bleeding.

i left the city for the city was angry

illicit and proud in velveteen night

i felt the city warm like a woman

seethe like a dragon burn into light.

in the city/when it's sunny/roses bloom/but love goes hungry.

inner secrets/in a silence/end the sequence/innocence.

common feeling (harris, pick)

who are these people, and what are they doing ?

i have no explanation for my sense of being.

i distrust analysis and resist believing

i think it must be just a common feeling.

i hope i may assume a certain consensus

a tacit understanding of the silent codes

there isn't any real need to go on:

we all know what's expected of me,

it's not innovative or revealing

it's just a common feeling.

i'd tell you some good things,

but I always forget them,

there's never any time

and the days follow each other

it's better when you feel you can generate something

a sense of achievement when it goes together

a moment of insight, or some adequate squealing

or a certain direction

or a common feeling.

smoke and ashes/do not speak/dust to dust/cheek to cheek.

beast (pick, halsted, harris)

when i become aware of me

i am the spectre at the feast

a hollow shell of brittle masks

and i would rather be a beast.

i would rather be a beast

and be a part of everything

than have to try to justify

the foulness of our reasoning

unleash me ! let me loose again !

i'm living in a poisoned sack

and if i once escape this shroud

you're never going to tempt me back.

if you should be the son of man

beware what you're inheriting

i would rather be a beast

than be apart from everything

i've seen things that men have done

and i would rather be a beast

until all barriers are gone

and every prisoner released.

i would rather be a beast

and feast on horror and disease

than enter the communion

of carrion hypocrisies.

all words by peter pick