Song parody of
Small Flowers Crack Concrete
by Sonic Youth
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Small flowers crack concrete
Narcotic squads sweep through poet dens
Spilling coffee, grabbing 15-yr-old runaway girls
By frazzled ponytail ed hair
And tossing them into backseats of cop cars
The narcs beat the bearded oracles
Replacing tantric love with complete violence
Lights and mirrors dot the city
Ink stained hippies
With boxed lunch and marijuana
Mystery plays of shit and nothingness
Blessed by colors from a black hat
Blue lights search through weeds
Searching for the heart of d.a. levy
And the mind he left behind
What did you expect? Another mystic wreck?
That's what you got crawling
Inside your panic net
What did you bring me? Not a goddam thing yeh
And what did you leave me?
Another tombstone dream, yeh
O salacious mansion, the boys held for ransom
Did you see where he's gone?
The blasted summers dawn
Fucked up in Cleveland, fucked up in Cleveland
Short flight to nothing
Heaven's up to something
Heaven's up to something
Levy's up to something
Levy's up to something
Death poems for the living gods of America
Plastic saxophones bleat
Bleed for nothing, nada
Cops crashing through doors
Infuriated by silver charms of suburban smoke
At war with patches of red dirt glitter
And bluejean fucking
And protest.
Small flowers crack concrete
Narcotic squads sweep through poet dens
Spilling coffee, grabbing 15-yr-old runaway girls
By frazzled ponytail ed hair
And tossing them into backseats of cop cars
The narcs beat the bearded oracles
Replacing tantric love with complete violence
Lights and mirrors dot the city
Ink stained hippies
With boxed lunch and marijuana
Mystery plays of shit and nothingness
Blessed by colors from a black hat
Blue lights search through weeds
Searching for the heart of d.a. levy
And the mind he left behind
What did you expect? Another mystic wreck?
That's what you got crawling
Inside your panic net
What did you bring me? Not a goddam thing yeh
And what did you leave me?
Another tombstone dream, yeh
O salacious mansion, the boys held for ransom
Did you see where he's gone?
The blasted summers dawn
Fucked up in Cleveland, fucked up in Cleveland
Short flight to nothing
Heaven's up to something
Heaven's up to something
Levy's up to something
Levy's up to something
Death poems for the living gods of America
Plastic saxophones bleat
Bleed for nothing, nada
Cops crashing through doors
Infuriated by silver charms of suburban smoke
At war with patches of red dirt glitter
And bluejean fucking
And protest.
