Legendary Pink Dots The Gallery Lyrics:
My building's full of little holes with heads in,
staring at the street.
They sometimes topple forwards,
then they shrink with one another,
passing freaks.
They rarely speak and though I don't feed them--
still they keep their double, their quadruple, chins.
Their garbage bins emptied each day.
By night waiting with lights off, their cats out,
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their wives in-- they're PEEPING!
Peeping at the methylated man who spits in a can,
spreads his hands for silver,
pans for gutter gold.
He mutters old forgotten songs his father taught him,
rolls on the floor.
Rolls in alcoves,
gets caught in waterfalls down rotting walls.
(He's bored.)
My friends applaud, throw pennies -
peeping - and wait. . .
peeping, waiting, peeping, peeping in the gallery.
Lyrics: The Gallery, Legendary Pink Dots [end]