So long surrealists
It’s time to re-invent
Inflict your life upon no easel.
None had painted
With a fiendish drop of paint
All unconscious
In a freeze-frame of the brain
Bellevue
Drink the cost of your trade.
Create a backdrop
For a scheme that’s on the page
Bore the wretches
Who have brought old, bland precepts
Volatile charm
Deal on a whim
Make “Proteen”
Talk will be cheap.

Every stroke from inside
Free-splattered surprise
“Deny the accident.”
They multiply, how divine!
Spontaneity
Lousy prime.
In order to lose
You must be stationary
Abstract with moving tact
Read the center with ease.


Lyrics submitted by detourahead

Jack The Dripper song meanings
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