B.S. Johnson Songtext
von Pernice Brothers

Write a book of debt everyone must pay
Exact revenge in a grotesque way
Build a Taj Mahal on vacation time
The kid who′s dragged the sack before the ink is dry
It's asking "I have seen each other die now"

Write a book of leaves shuffled by the wind
Two unbound lives, orderless and grim
Set up to ensure failing miserably
To sublimate a word into poetry
Then make sure your last intention′s known


You were dead by half forty-two
There'd be no rigid form for you
Jammed into a plot where you never would fit
A tiny manuscript with a hole cut in it
As you drifted off to sleep
My mother set bedtime for me
Terrycloth robe with a hand-me-down fit
Playing in the bath with a warship in it

You were gone by half forty-two
There'd be no rigid form for you
Jammed into a plot where you never would fit
A tiny manuscript with a hole cut in it
As you drifted off to sleep
My mother set bedtime for me
Terrycloth robe with a hand-me-down fit
Playing in the bath with a warship in it, yeah