Friday, November 19, 2010

Her neon mouth with the blinking soft smile ..

Psychedelia at its prime.

1967 ...

San Francisco...

How great if one could go back there for a few weeks...

If I could I would seriously consider staying..

And I would form a band called... the XXIst Century Travelers..

Plastic Fantastic Lover

Her neon mouth with the blinking soft smile
Is nothing but an electric sign
You could say she has an individual style
She's part of a colorful time

Super-sealed lady, chrome-color clothes
You wear 'cause you have no other
But I suppose no one knows
You're my plastic fantastic lover

Your rattlin' cough never shuts off
Is nothin' but a used machine
Your aluminum finish, slightly diminished
Is the best I ever have seen

Cosmetic baby plugged into me
And never ever find another
And I realize no one's wise
To my plastic fantastic lover

The electrical dust is starting to rust
Her trapezoid thermometer taste
All the red tape is mechanical rape
Of the TV program waste

Data control and IBM
Science is mankind's brother
But all I see is drainin' me
On my plastic fantastic lover

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