lirik lagu psychedelic sewing room – bongwater
in the psychedelic sewing room
a 14 year old marcia brady
is desperate to find her niche in the world
kinda desperate, kinda cute
what’s she gonna do?
with a [?new and brighter work shed?], what’s she gonna do?
kinda desperate, kinda cute
in the psychedelic sewing room
a 30 year old samantha stevens
is desperate to keep her niche in the world
kinda desperate, but still kinda cute
wherе’s she gonna go
when darren finally diеs of colon cancer
and leaves her with the last payments?
what’s she gonna do?
kinda desperate, kinda cute
in the psychedelic sewing room
a withered old bea taylor
is desperate to get out of this world
kinda desperate, and not really cute
what’s she gonna do?
what’s she gonna say?
kinda desperate, kinda cute
whatcha gonna do?
in the psychedelic sewing room
where crazy colors turn to blue
in the psychedelic sewing room…
outside, the lawn is filled with disney*ana:
stuffed donald ducks, mickey t*shirts, peter pan figurines
all with the official disney tag of approval hanging from them
the other side of the room sells expensive jewelry:
watches, pearls, gold chains, rings
i pick up two miniature leather wallets that open up in several sections
embossed in gold on the front are two men’s names
linked together in corporate matrimony
they are partners (in the psychedelic sewing room) in a very high powered merchant conglomerate
and i’m told by the salesman that they’ve been buddies since childhood
they loved each other like brothers, the brothers they never had
except recently there has been financial trouble within the firm
(in the psychedelic sewing room)
and each are accusing the other of double crossing
and bringing ruin upon the business
so, each man has had the other wallet engraved with insults
(in the psychedelic sewing room)
etched into the expensive leather:
“to john, you two*timing scumbag”, “to bill, you viper.”
on one of the display cases sits a suiban
(in the psychedelic sewing room)
a low, shallow basin*type container
designed for ikebana, the art of j*panese flower arranging
the suiban is filled with water, and inside is a tiny woman in a brown monk’s robe
(in the psychedelic sewing room)
she tells us that she is the second incarnation of christ
she’s furiously scrubbing about her miniature ceramic feet with a wire brush
the vigorous brushing turns her feet a brilliant, shimmering brass
(in the psychedelic sewing room)
as she brushes, she begins to disappear
and she and the feet dissolve into thin air
the water in the suiban slowly turns bl**dy
the water soon becomes pink, and two roses appear
everyone looks at the roses, and they begin to cry
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