Hankie Journal & the Little Pimples - HANK'E JOURNAL SONg Lyrics

Bitter shit, tasting down to our lowly earth in flavor and texture
Containing no more than one named, one gunned one
Shot at and again, stupid petrified oil, soiled tight
Locked in in the dark, frightened of the dark, frightened of the sun
Frightened, shock, crouching in the room they know
Unknowing, unknown in the world and to her own
To her folks, who ask, 'who be he?' to all who wish to be asked such
Then, is there, extant, a place known similar to here in the thoughts of the there-be-ers?
Do not question her work, for her pen has not fallen
Not gone red, not gone corrected, not undone or unfun
Still scratching here and there, and everywhere, counting hours
Counting events, imagined as in the head of a there be-er, of an object
Of that one object, the other, the that, the sitting, moving, boney
Smiling form, foamed from fragments of boiled bone and gone
To live at the shore, to be more like a wave
Doubt not, I forget my own line. I criss, I went home, I cross
Bitter shit, boiled hard in a winding, windy stream, foaming rocks
Pre-foamed boulders in Colorado, tickling my toes and weeping
And tiptoeing across the wooden walls until he forgets the most basic: his own form
Until he shits out some bitter shit into the pail, some watery shit
Some unprayed-upon, jumpy relic of a mind uncrossed, yet still upset
Ready-to-go as shit, as a bit, as a joke, as a rock, she sat, she laid
She said she was titillated by the fickle freckled frolicking, f*cking fox pair
Groaning and boning and pressing keys on my computer
Do shadows not, to you, as well as to me, come across as imbalances in the spectrum-Ed visage?
Do they not seem unreal, uncalled for, whacked forms? Like silhouettes or some other Bitter shit?
Why pace. Doesn't sound anything like it is. Should be more like walk without mind.
You trance-walk. That is what it is. Quit pacing.
There is a spot on the corner of my lips right now, as we speak, wherein the skin is Ripped I think and it hurts
I think it hurts from not getting enough water, just a small rip, but annoying as anyone to Whom you are a contrarian is. But that stupid rip, the shit makes me pour my water into My mouth on that side always
Never the other
But nothing helps
I guess, as always I will live with the new quarrel I have found until I forget it
Then you can get back to normal
There is also a dry part of the lip on the other side
Less obvious to you, your nerves, and yourself but still bickerable