Lyrics:

I haven't fucked much with the past, but I've fucked plenty with the future
Over the skin of silk are scars from the splinters of stations and walls I've caressed
A stage is like each bolt of wood, like a lock of Helen, it's my pleasure
I would measure the success of a night by the way, by the way I, by the amount of piss and seed I could exude over the columns that nestled the PA
Some nights I'd surprise everybody by skipping off with a skirt of green net sewed over with flat metallic circles which dazzled and flashed
The lights were violet and white
I had an ornamental veil, but I couldn't bear to use it
When my hair was cropped I craved covering, but now my hair itself is a veil, and the scalp inside is the scalp of a crazy and sleepy Comanche lies beneath this netting of skin
I wake up
I am lying peacefully, I am lying peacefully and my knees are open to the sun
I desire Him, and He is absolutely ready to seize me
In heart I am a Muslim, in heart I am an American
In heart I am a Muslim, in heart I am an American artist and I have no guilt
I seek pleasure, I seek the nerves under your skin
The narrow archway, the layers; the scroll of ancient letters
We worship the flaw, the belly, the belly, the mole on the belly of an exquisite whore
He spared the child and spoiled the rod
I have not sold myself to God