I haven't fucked much with the past,
But I've fucked plenty with the future.
Over the skin of silk are scars
From the splinters of stations
And walls I've caressed.
A stage is like each bolt of wood,
Like a log of Helen, is my pleasure.
I would measure the success of a night
By the way by the way by the amount of piss and seed
I could exude over the columns that nestled the P.A.
Some nights I'd surprise everybody by skipping off
With a skirt of green net sewed over
With flat metallic circles which dazzled and flashed.
The lights were violet and white.
I had an ornamental veil, but I couldn't bear to use it.
When my hair was cropped, I craved covering,
But now my hair itself is a veil,
And the scalp inside is a scalp of
A crazy and sleepy Comanche
Lies beneath this netting of the skin.
I wake up. I am lying peacefully
I am lying peacefully and my knees are open to the sun.
I desire him, and he is absolutely ready to seize me.
In heart I am a Moslem;
In heart I am an American;
In heart I am Moslem,
In heart I'm an American artist,
And I have no guilt.
I seek pleasure.
I seek the nerves under your skin.
The narrow archway; the layers;
The scroll of ancient lettuce.
We worship the flaw, the belly, the belly,
The mole on the belly of an exquisite whore.
He spared the child and spoiled the rod.
I have not sold myself to God.
Babelogue Lyrics performed by Patti Smith are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Babelogue Lyrics performed by Patti Smith is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD