Merry Frakking Christmas

William Burroughs tells a touching tale that illustrates the Christic spirit,
 outside of the Christmas Industrial Complex.

The Day That Captain Beefheart Died

                                
The Sun licked the mountaintop at the crack of dawn, licking the decals off the night and
Birds sang and danced lasciviously, chirping and trilling obscenely with the coming of the sun.
The cool morning air caressed me sensuously thrilling me seductively and
Everything seemed magical and mystical on the day that Captain Beefheart died.


"You might think I'm crazy but I want you to lick my decals off, baby " he croaked,
Stretching the babyyyyyy, lingering like  post-coital aura on a sexy Sunday morning.
Sculpting sounds, he used words with polychromatic suggestiveness and
Intellectual restlessness while he explored the bizare spaces between people's ears.
Shining light on the silliness most of us take so seriously.
Woe is a Me Bop? Indeed. 
My world is a sunnier, funnier place because in it Captain Beefheart lives.



Lyrics | Captain Beefheart lyrics - Grow Fins lyrics

Four Doors

Four doors open onto the landing outside my front door.

One of them is decorated with a wreath for the holidays.

Behind that wreath lives a loud and angry young man.

He stomps around and slams the door

After yelling at the young woman

Who also lives behind the decorated door.

Merry fucking Christmas!