Dreams w/o REMs
Sometimes I sing like I'm infinite monkeys,
at infinite typewriters.
Here's the scene: you're at the zoo,
the cheetah's ordered pizza but
the lions want Hawaiian and the tigers wanted mushrooms
All you know is time goes on in meters
Writing kilo-syllables, making noise
while music's playing
in the background you can sleep
and the dreams that will come to you,
will make more sense
that what I write, cause
I write everything.
(this came from recalling Mary Travers' statement about Zappa and Bowie--and wondering if Michael Stipe was doing the Bowie thing intentionally or not).
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