In no order, 7" records from my shelf. Part four.
Each house repeats a mold
Windows rolled
Beast car locked in against morning
All now sleeping
Rugs silent, mirrors vacant
Dust Lying under the beds of lawful couples
Wound in sheets
And daughters, smug
With semen eyes in their nipples
Wait
There's been a slaughter here
(Don't stop to speak or look around
Your gloves and fan are on the ground
We're getting out of town
We're going on the run
And you're the one I want to come)
Not to touch the earth
Not to see the sun