Fest babe
I saw you sippin that lemo (nade)
Under the scorching hot sun
We were pigs on a spit
the earth on its usual tilt
headstrong, a diamond
You were a hipster mary magdalene and
I was carrying my cross and
I was on my cross
oh-oh-oh, fest babe, fest babe
Your aviators lay on your face
Two satellites on your eyes
I was spinning in from some inner space
Seared faced, salty lipped
Your dreads swayed
When annie said
your skin so fair (its not fair)
And i wiggled my toes
Oh-oh-oh, fest babe
(this previous part has slowed the tempo down considerably. At this point building back up again instrumental section. Building up with each )
(Medium/fast tempo)
And I walked away
And I walked away
And I walked away
Half a set of the back of your head
Thirty three percent of one eye (thirty three percent)
Thirty three and one half percent of your eye (and one ear)
(slow down to nothing else practically, or just sparseness. )
Fest babe
Surly asteroids sped fast, past
For the moment
The villagers of pompei sat and rested
When the lava ran cool
(ad lib)
i, i, i
- steven
- "Seeing that before long I must confront humanity with the most difficult demand ever made of it, it seems indispensable to me to say who I am. Really, one should know it, for I have not left myself "without testimony." But the disproportion between the greatness of my task and the smallness of my contemporaries has found expression in the fact that one has neither heard nor even seen me. I live on my own credit; is it perhaps a mere prejudice that I live? ... I need only to speak with one of the "educated" who come to the Upper Engadine for the summer, and I am convinced that I do not live ... Under these circumstances I have a duty against which my habits, even more the pride of my instincts, revolt at bottom, namely, to say: Hear me! For I am such and such a person. Above all, do not mistake me for someone else!" - Nietzsche, Ecce Homo
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