no tongue in the bell and the fishwives yell but they might as well be mute so you get to keep the pictures that don t seem like much cold white keys under your fingers now you re thinking that s no substitute it just don t do it like the song of a warm warm body loving your touch in the court they carve your legend with an apple in its jaw and the women that you wanted they get their laughs long silk stockings on the bedposts of refinement you re too raw they think you re too raw it s the judgement of the moon and stars your solitary path draw yourself a bath think what you d like to have for supper or take a walk a park a bridge a tree a river revoked but not yet cancelled the gift goes on in silence in a bell jar still a song you ve got to shake your fists at lightning now you ve got to roar like forest fire you ve got to spread your light like blazes all across the sky they re going to aim the hoses on you show em you won t expire not till you burn up every passion not even when you die come on now you ve got to try if you re feeling contempt well then you tell it if you re tired of the silent night jesus well then you yell it condemned to wires and hammers strike every chord that you feel that broken trees and elephant ivories conceal