memo_from_turner pilgrim Didn't I see you down in San Antone' On a hot and dusty night? You were eatting eggs in Sammy's When a Black man drew his knife, And you drowned that Jew in Ramton As he washed his sleevless shirt. You know, that Spanish-speaking Gentleman, the one that we all called Kurt. Come now, Gentlemen, I know there's some Mistake, How forgetful I'm Becoming, Now, Fix your business, Shirt. And didn't I see you down In Hemlock Row, back in 1956, You were a faggoty little Leather Boy With a smaller piece of stick. You were a lashing smashing Hunk of man whose sweat shines Sweet and strong, Your organs working perfectly, But there's a part That's not screwed on. And weren't you at the Coke Convention back in 1965, You were the misbred grey executive I'd seen heavelly advertised, You're the great grey man Who's Daughter licks Policemans buttons clean, You're the man who squats Behind the man That works the Soft Machine. Come now, Gentlemen, Your Love is all I crave, You'll still be in the Circus When I'm Laughing; Laughing in my Grave! When the Old men do the fighting, And the Young Men all look on, And the Young Girls eat Their Mothers Meat From tubes of Plasticon, Be wary please, My gentle Freinds, Of all the skins You breed. They have a tasty habit, To eat the hand that bleeds. Oh Rosie dear, Don't You think it's queer, So stop Me if You please. "The baby's dead." My Lady said. You Gentlemen, You ALL work for Me! 020621 what's it to you? who go blather from