White Moon

White moon, white moon

Breaks open the tomb

Of a deserted cartoon that I wrote

Creature come, creature, creature

My own double feature

As I'm warming the bleachers at home

Well, my nose keeps on bleeding

'Cause it's rita I'm needing

I better call out a meeting of the boys

Of the boys

My friends are all dying

And death can't be lying

It's the truth and it don't make a noise

Oh Rita, oh Rita

If you lived in mesita

I would move you with the beat of a drum

And this picture is proof

That although you're aloof

You had the shiniest tooth 'neath the sun

Easy come, easy go

Be a star of the show

I'm giving up all I know to get more

To get more

Photograph the picture

Young grunt pin-up scripture

For locker-tagged memories of war

A mirage, this garage

And a photo montage

And a finger massage from the host

Good lord, good lord

The one I adore

And I cannot afford is a ghost

Is a ghost

Proto-social is the word

And the word is the bird

That flew through the herd in the snow

In the snow

Lemonade me, then grade me

Then deliver my baby

And if my friends all persuade me, I'll go

Blink, blink at me Rita

Don't you know I'm a bleeder?

And I promised I wouldn't lead her on

But she met me, then led me

And I ate what was fed me

'Til I purged every word in this song