Waterworm
Waterworm
Lyrics by Michael Vance
Written August 9th, 1971
Enveloped in the belly of the storm
slick with sweat wrinkle-worn-sick
with sweat In his maggot-teaming brain
the menhorse hooved the plains
the womanfish cut the greasy inky.
Jupiter left the grave.
The siren swelled and stank of pain
by his side His mouth wide
the scaly gulped the air germ
The Waterworm cried
out in sleep and moved his slimy feet
Foaming in the streets, the dogs burn
Foaming in the streets, the ants churn
The spit machine slobbered along the pavement
The slug, slurped, slow against the cement
getting there, but unconcerned
The storm men gathered behind Venetian blinds
The bombs burped fat between their written lines
getting there, but unconcerned
The steel heads sputtered within cow palaces,
the words warbled wet, bloating their malices,
getting there, but unconcerned
Foaming in the streets, the dogs burn
Foaming in the streets, the ants churn
Enveloped in the belly of the storm
slick with sweat wrinkle-worn-sick
with sweat In his maggot-teaming brain
the menhorse hooved the plains
the womanfish cut the greasy inky.
Jupiter left the grave.
The siren swelled and stank of pain
by his side His mouth wide
the scaly gulped the air germ
The Waterworm cried
out in sleep and moved his slimy feet
Waterworm
Waterworm
Lyrics by Michael Vance
Written August 9th, 1971
Enveloped in the belly of the storm
slick with sweat wrinkle-worn-sick
with sweat In his maggot-teaming brain
the menhorse hooved the plains
the womanfish cut the greasy inky.
Jupiter left the grave.
The siren swelled and stank of pain
by his side His mouth wide
the scaly gulped the air germ
The Waterworm cried
out in sleep and moved his slimy feet
Foaming in the streets, the dogs burn
Foaming in the streets, the ants churn
The spit machine slobbered along the pavement
The slug, slurped, slow against the cement
getting there, but unconcerned
The storm men gathered behind Venetian blinds
The bombs burped fat between their written lines
getting there, but unconcerned
The steel heads sputtered within cow palaces,
the words warbled wet, bloating their malices,
getting there, but unconcerned
Foaming in the streets, the dogs burn
Foaming in the streets, the ants churn
Enveloped in the belly of the storm
slick with sweat wrinkle-worn-sick
with sweat In his maggot-teaming brain
the menhorse hooved the plains
the womanfish cut the greasy inky.
Jupiter left the grave.
The siren swelled and stank of pain
by his side His mouth wide
the scaly gulped the air germ
The Waterworm cried
out in sleep and moved his slimy feet