Gots To Git Funky

You are strangling me with your love
in your hotel room of permanent disorder
I cry for help—for open air / you close the window and I pass out
between your walls / in your arms . . .

I slept alone for many whole nights / but one more minute / and I will kill you
you look at me as if you had no eyes / but when you touch me / I have no skin

You made love to a photocopy, and left the room in perfect order
by leaning out of the window / and traveling by ambulance

strangling me with your love…  (x 4)

You are strangling me with your love
in your hotel room of permanent disorder
I cry for help—for open air / you close the window and I pass out
between your walls, in your arms
(chokin’ to death)

strangling me with your love
(chokin’ . . .)

strangling me with your love
strangling me with your love

 

 

Go Forth this Fourth

Chester (1778)

Let tyrants shake their iron rod,
And Slav’ry clank her galling chains,
We fear them not, we trust in God,
New England’s God forever reigns.

Howe and Burgoyne and Clinton too,
With Prescot and Cornwallis join’d,
Together plot our Overthrow,
In one Infernal league combin’d.

When God inspir’d us for the fight,
Their ranks were broke, their lines were forc’d,
Their ships were Shatter’d in our sight,
Or swiftly driven from our Coast.

The Foe comes on with haughty Stride;
Our troops advance with martial noise,
Their Vet’rans flee before our Youth,
And Gen’rals yield to beardless Boys.

What grateful Off’ring shall we bring?
What shall we render to the Lord?
Loud Halleluiahs let us Sing,
And praise his name on ev’ry Chord.