Lambchop
Or Thousands of Prices
There may be richness and purity
Stillness, obscenity this Tuesday night
In a touch of openness, carelessness, vulgarity, even spite

And his boots lay on the carpet beside his socks
And her blouse was on the bedpost, the drink is on the rocks

The hick's perspiration, imagination, insinuation, salvation and moonlight
As their eyes met almost cautiously, carefully, caressingly as if they might

In her hands she holds the object of her desire
Through his fingers run the cradle of our civilization

It's such promises of senselessness, emotionless defensiveness the two awoke
To the sound of lawns mowing, trees mowing, he's knowing she's going and they never spoke

He takes the ribbon from her hair and makes a knot
She reaches for her purse and then she stops

Intellectually this economy is under their advisement
It's just real sweat and not some TV sets
The owner of the advertisements, don't abuse it
It's all in your head
Things like [?]
And that big red freshness
Or deviling your pleasures
Or thousands of prices
Or thousands of prices
Or thousands of prices