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Exorcising the Empire Dog

Cans of reviver in our little red car
Love was the driver
Aragón
Great Swedish writer by my side
We are friends
friends until we die

Look, there, there’s the house
we have arrived
Come and look, Peter, H
there’s a dog tied up
Come and look
there’s a door
Let’s go inside

And there’s a football pitch
There’s a swimming pool full of winter leaves
And the wood’s chopped up for our fire
Let’s get the guitar
Let’s hide the car

Down by the river, shepherd come
Up on the bridge, his flock sublime
Stop at our feet, their eyes of fear
But all feel good with shepherd near
Shepherd clear
90 years at least
And would we like his job?

Alcohol running round
village where bulls are burned.
Black is the night in country
We have our guitars blazing
Look at the stars

Look there, there’s the Mastiff still tied up
How could they do that to a dog?
Should we set him free?
Should we set him free now?
He’s a sweet, shy, sad and noble beast
and, I think,
yes, I think I saw him wink
Think I’ll go and see, slip the chain
and set him free.

Unfortunately God Exists

Out in the orchards of Eden one morning,
the living was easy, the loving was great
Two hungry lovers found breakfast appalling,
for someone had poisoned the apples that day

Unfortunately God exists
Unfortunately God exists
but only in minds and churches
only in minds and churches

Breakfast was over, the dirty was done
A mafia of perverts called churches had won
And all of this beautiful, beautiful, beautiful morning
was turned into shame, and hate, and faking, and torture, and fear…

Unfortunately God exists
Unfortunately God exists
but only in minds and churches
only in minds and churches

We’ll hail the day when the preachers say
"Go out and fuck and enjoy"
Love gave us bodies to kiss the blues away
Love gave us bodies to kiss the blues away
(free speech by Colonel Snide, Legionario de Cristo (Chipping Sodbury branch)

Strange Love

I never like to talk to those dumb, dumb bitches
who cultivate perfection every day
Their sex appeal is index-linked to furs and riches
and they deflate my erection, anyway
I like the iridescent beauties from the muddy river
or the jewels that grow in the good compost of life
And I found the honey I desired at 20,000 feet
among the snow wolves and the conies and the mice

Well I will be your gardener and you will be my flower
Wild weeds and sylvan seeds, I love you sweet and sour
That's right,
that's nice, that's nice

Oh, the radiation and the feeling I find
in the face that launches nine hundred-and-ninety-nine ships,
like Giulietta Masina - sweet lips!

And if there's no accounting for taste
then the accountants we call critics are a desperate waste
and the critical faculty's just another Friday night?
So we will sit out late tonight in the firelight, in the firelight
with a dirty moon to howl at as the clouds go by

And I will be your gardener and you will be my flower
Wild weeds and sylvan seeds, I love you sweet and sour