White Light/White Heat
The Gift
Lady Godivas Operation
Here She Comes Now
I Heard Her Call My Name
Sister Ray
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White Light/ White Heat
White light goin' messin' up my mind.
Don't you know it's gonna make me go blind.
White heat, it trickles way down to my toes.
Have mercy white light have it goodness knows.
White light goin' messin' up my brain.
White light, it's gonna drive me insane.
White heat, it trickles way down to my toes.
White light, I said now, goodness knows.
Ooo, white light.
Ooo, white heat.
Ooo, white light.
Ooo, white heat.
White light moved in me through my brain
White light gonna make-a me go insane
White light, trickled down to my toes
White light, I said now, goodness knows.
White light it lightens up my eyes
Don't you know it fills me up with surprise
White heat trickles down to my toes
White light, I'll tell you now, goodness knows.
The Gift
Waldo Jeffers had reached his limit. It was now Mid-August which meant
he had been separated from Marsha for more than two months. Two months,
and all he had to show were three dog-eared letters and two very expensive
long-distance phone calls. True, when school had ended and she'd returned
to Wisconsin, and he to Locust, Pennsylvania, she had sworn to maintain a
certain fidelity. She would date occasionally, but merely as amusement.
She would remain faithful.
But lately, Waldo had begun to worry. He had trouble sleeping at night,
and when he did, he had horrible dreams. He lay awake at night, tossing
and turning underneath his pleated quilt protector, tears welling in his
eyes, as he pictured Marsha, her sworn vows overcome by liquor and the
smooth soothing of some Neanderthal, finally submitting to the final
caresses of sexual oblivion. It was more than the human mind could bear.
Visions of Marsha's faithlessness haunted him. Daytime fantasies of sexual
abandon permeated his thoughts. And the thing was, they wouldn't
understand how she really was. He, Waldo, alone understood this. He had
intuitively grasped every nook and cranny of her psyche. He had made her
smile -- she needed him, and he wasn't there (Aaaww..).
The idea came to him on the Thursday before the Mummers' Parade was
scheduled to appear. He had just finished mowing and edging the Edisons'
lawn for a dollar fifty and then checked the mailbox to see if there was
at least a word from Marsha. There was nothing but a circular from the
Amalgamated Aluminum Company of America inquiring into his awning needs.
At least they cared enough to write. It was a New York company. You could
go anywhere in the mails.
Then it struck him: he didn't have enough money to go to Wisconsin in the
accepted fashion, true, but why not mail himself? It was absurdly simple.
He would ship himself, parcel-post special delivery. The next day Waldo
went to the supermarket to purchase the necessary equipment. He bought
masking tape, a staple gun and a medium sized cardboard box, just right
for a person of his build. He judged that with a minimum of jostling he
could ride quite comfortably. A few airholes, some water, perhaps some
midnight snacks and it would probably be as good as going tourist.
By Friday afternoon, Waldo was set. He was thoroughly packed and the post
office had agreed to pick him up at three o'clock. He had marked the
package "Fragile", and as he sat curled up inside, resting the foam rubber
cushioning he'd thoughtfully included, he tried to picture the look of awe
and happiness on Marsha's face as she opened the door, saw the package,
tipped the deliverer, and then opened it to see her Waldo finally there in
person. She would kiss him, and then maybe they could see a movie. If he'd
only thought of this before. Suddenly rough hands gripped his package and
he felt himself borne up. He landed with a thud in a truck and was off.
Marsha Bronson had just finished setting her hair. It had been a very
rough weekend. She had to remember not to drink like that. Bill had been
nice about it, though. After it was over, he'd said that he still
respected her and, after all it was certainly the way of nature, and even
though, no he did not love her, he did feel an affection for her. And,
after all, they were grown adults. Oh, what Bill could teach Waldo. But
that seemed many years ago.
Sheila Klein, her very very best friend walked in through the porch screen
door and into the kitchen.
"Oh God, it's absolutely maudlin outside."
"Ach, I know what you mean, I feel all icky!" Marsha tightened the belt on
her cotton robe with the silk outer edge. Sheila ran her finger over some
salt grains on the kitchen table, licked her fingers and made a face.
"I'm supposed to be taking these salt pills, but-" she wrinkled her nose,
"- they make me feel like throwing up."
Marsha started to pat herself under the chin, an exercise she had seen on
television. "God, don't even talk about that." She got up from the table
and went to the sink, where she picked up a bottle of pink and blue
vitamins. "Want one? Supposed to be better than steak," and attempted to
touch her knees.
"I don't think I'll ever touch a daiquiri again." She gave up and sat
down, this time nearer the small table that supported the telephone.
"Maybe Bill will call." she said to Sheila's glance.Sheila nibbled on her
cuticle.
"After last night, I thought maybe you'd be through with him."
"I know what you mean. My God, he was like an octopus -- hands all over
the place!" She gestured, raising her arms upward in defense. "The thing
is, after a while, you get tired of fighting with him, you know, and after
all I didn't really do anything Friday and Saturday so I kind of owed it
to him, you know what I mean." She started to scratch.
Sheila was giggling with her hand over her mouth. "I tell you, I felt the
same way, and even after a while," here she bent forward in a whisper, "I wanted to." Now she was laughing very loudly.
It was at this point that Mr. Jameson of the Clarence Darrow Post Office
rang the door bell of the large stucco-covered frame house. When Marsha
Bronson opened the door, he helped her carry the package in. He had his
yellow and green slips of paper signed and left with a fifteen cent tip
that Marsha had gotten out of her mother's small beige pocketbook in the
den.
"What do you think it is?" Sheila asked.
Marsha stood with her arms folded behind her back. She stared at the brown
cardboard carton that sat in the middle of the living room.
"I don't know."
Inside the package Waldo quivered with excitement as he listened to the
muffled voices. Sheila ran her fingernail over the masking tape that ran
down the center of the carton. "Why don't you look at the return address
and see who it's from?"
Waldo felt his heart beating. He could feel the vibrating footsteps. It
would be soon.
Marsha walked around the carton and read the ink-scratched label. "God,
it's from Waldo."
"That schmuck!" said Sheila.
Waldo trembled with expectation.
"Well, you might as well open it," said Sheila, and both of them tried to
lift the stapled flap.
"Ooah," said Marsha groaning. "He must have nailed it shut." They tugged
on the flap again. "My God, you need a power drill to get this thing
open." They pulled again. "You can't get a grip!" They both stood still,
breathing heavily. "Why don't you get a scissors?" said Sheila. Marsha ran
into the kitchen, but all she could find was a little sewing scissors.
Then she remembered that her father kept a collection of tools in the
basement. She ran downstairs and when she came back up, she had a large
sheet metal cutter in her hand. "This is the best I could find." She was
very out of breath. "Here, you do it. I'm think I'm gonna die." She sank
into her large fluffy couch and exhaled noisily. Sheila tried to make a
slit between the masking tape and the end of the cardboard flap, but the
blade was too big and there wasn't enough room. "Goddamn this thing!" she
said feeling very exasperated. Then smiling, "I've got an idea." "What?"
said Marsha. "Just watch," said Sheila, touching her finger to her head.
Inside the package, Waldo was so transfixed with excitement that he could
hardly breathe. His skin felt prickly from the heat and he could feel his
heart beating in his throat. It would be soon.
Sheila stood quite upright and walked around to the other side of the
package. Then she sank down to her knees, grasped the cutter by both
handles, took a deep breath, and plunged the long blade through the middle
of the package, through the masking tape, through the cardboard, through
the cushioning and (thud) right through the center of Waldo Jeffers's
head, which split slightly and caused little rhythmic arcs of red to
pulsate gently in the morning sun...
Lady Godivas Operation
Lady Godiva here dressed so demurely
Pats the head of another curly hair boy, just another toy
Sick with silence she weeps sincerly
saying words that have oh so clearly been said
so long ago
Draperies wrapped gently 'round her shoulder
Life has made her that much bolder now
that she's found out how
Dressed in silk, latin, lace and envy
Pride and joy of the latest penny faire
pretty passing care
Hair today now dipped in the water
Making love to every poor daughter's son
isn't it fun
Now today propping frace with envy
Lady Godiva peers to see if anyone's there
and hasn't a care
Doctor is coming the nurse thinks SWEETLY
turning on the machines that NEATLY pump air
the body lies bare
Shaved and hairless what once was SCREAMING
now lies silent and almost SLEEPING
the brain must have gone away
Strapped securely to the white table
ether caused the body to wither and writhe
underneath the white light
Doctor arrives with knife and baggage
sees the growth as just so much cabbage
that now
must be cut away
Now comes the moment of Great! Great! Decision!
The doctor is making his first incision!
One goes here - one goes there
The ether tubes leaking says someone who's sloppy
Patient it seems is not so well sleeping
The screams echo up the hall
Don't panic someone give him pentathol instantly
Doctor removes his blade
cagily so from the brain
By m count of ten -
the head won't move
Here She Comes Now
Here she ever comes now now
She ever comes now now
She ever comes now
Here she ever comes now now
She ever comes now now
She ever comes now
Oh Oh, it looks so good
Oh Oh, She's made out of wood
Just look and see
I Heard Her Call My Name
Ever since I was on cripples Monday,
I've got my eyeballs on my knees.
I rapped for hours with mad Mary Williams,
she said she never understood a word from me
because, I know that she cares about me,
I heard her call my name.
And I know that she's long, dead and gone,
still it ain't the same.
When I wake up in the morning, mama,
I heard her call my name.
I know she's dead and long, gone.
I heard her call my name.
And then I felt my mind split open.
I know that she's long, dead and gone,
still it ain't the same.
When I wake up in the morning, mama,
I heard her call my name.
I know she's dead and long, gone.
Still, I heard her call my name.
And then my mind split open.
Sister Ray
Doc and Sally inside
They're cookin' for the down five
Who're starin' at Miss Rayon
Who's busy licking up her pig-pen
I'm searching for my mainline
I said I couldn't hit it sideways
I said I couldn't hit it sideways
just like Sister Ray said
Rosey and Miss Rayon
They're busy waiting for her booster
who just got back from Carolina
said she didn't like the weather
They're busy waiting for her Sailor
who's dressed in pink and leather
(who said he's just as big as ever)
He's just here from Alabama
he wants to know a way to earn a dollar
I'm searching for my mainer
I said I couldn't hit it sideways
I said I couldn't hit it sideways
just like Sister Ray said
Cecil's got his new piece
He cocks and shoots it bang between three & four
He aims it at the Sailor
Shoots him down dead on the floor
Aw, you shouldn't do that
Don't you know you'll stain the carpet
Now don't you know you'll stain the carpet
And by the way have you got a dollar
Oh, no man, I haven't got the time-time
She's busy sucking on a ding-dong
He's busy sucking on my ding-dong
just like Sister Ray said
I'm searching for my mainline
I said I c-c-c-couldn't hit it sideways
I said I c-c-c-couldn't hit it sideways
just like Sister Ray says
Who's that knocking
Who's that knocking on my chamber door
Could it be the police?
They come and take me for a ride-ride
But I haven't got the time-time
She's been sucking on my ding-dong
She's busy sucking on my ding-dong
Just like Sister Ray said
I'm searching for my mainline
I couldn't hit it sideways
I couldn't hit it sideways
just like .... Sister Ray says
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