Slow Dazzle

Words & music by mae b. axton - tommy durden - elvis presley

Well, since my baby left me,
I found a new place to dwell.
It's down at the end of lonely street
At heartbreak hotel.

You make me so lonely baby,
I get so lonely,
I get so lonely i could die.

And although it's always crowded,
You still can find some room.
Where broken hearted lovers
Do cry away their gloom.

You make me so lonely baby,
I get so lonely,
I get so lonely i could die.

Well, the bell hop's tears keep flowin',
And the desk clerk's dressed in black.
Well they been so long on lonely street
They ain't ever gonna look back.

You make me so lonely baby,
I get so lonely,
I get so lonely i could die.

Hey now, if your baby leaves you,
And you got a tale to tell.
Just take a walk down lonely street
To heartbreak hotel.

i believe you mr wilson
I believe the things you say
And i'm always thinking of you
When i hear your music play

And you know it's true
That wales is not like california in any way
And when i listen to your music
You're still thousands of miles away

Take your mixes not your mixture
Add some music to our day
Don't believe the things they tell you
Don't let them get in your way

And you know that it's true
Wales is not like california in any way
And everytime i hear hear your music
You're still thousands of miles away

Califorinia wine is fine...

Very slowly he sipped his tea, not shifting his glance from the thick double spaced printing he read with his jeweller's eye

Engrossed in his corner, he passed onto the other inhabitants of the room a scrawled insularity of time and space

For both passed him by with the speed of light, not unlike the flow of substance, however varied, into that lysergic entity known as the black hole

He was hardly ugly for his time, and conversation was certainly not lost on him
Drastic measures were called for, and as in antiquity the lonely man was blessed with wisdom to the point of desperation

But there in his corner, developing around him like a sun, was a climate of such rare beauty that sight and sound could no longer be considered sufficient food for the senses

And he had begun to notice, as his hearing failed, that mind and matter were in no way connected to one other, as if in fact the one could not propose and prove its erotic existence in terms of
Ther

"what does this word mean?" he enquired of the solemn waiter hopefully
"nothing for desert sir", came the reply, "perhaps a cocktail, demitasse or a herbal essence, it helps the breathing you know sometimes". "the bill, if you don't mind&qu
Quickly he shot back

And as the patter of the feet faded in the room, for he barely heard them now, his eye slowly began to close, and by the time he emerged on the sunny street he was forced to rely entirely on the
R eye for help, but happily it continued its many functions, blinking gently for lubrication, and registering images
It was rush hour, in hawaii only 10am

So, turning into his street, he stopped at the drug store and bought an eye patch that soon covered the reluctant eye

Climbing the stairs he pondered what to do next, he would call a doctor and have tests made, eat nourishing food and if necessary consent to surgery, the last resort of the gambling man

And at 1am he awoke from a dream and after fumbling his way in the obolescent light of his room he peered into the rusty veins of his mirror and lifted away the patch
What he saw astonished him. where once was tremulous tissue and membrane was now a follicle and perfectly formed vagina with vulva, overgrown and mysterious, unrevealing and still to the untrain
E

But in the deep dark recesses of that sticky occlusion lay the unclosing watchful eye of disgust in its closing moments, lunging forward and hungry for the cold light of days

Well it's too damn early and your eyes are bleeding
From the vicious bottle the night before
And the last thing you need is a nicety-nice
And small talk crawls out your ears
Maybe it makes you feel just like an undercover sigmund freud
I hear it makes you feel just like an undercover sigmund freud

Hey there, hey now, hey there, hey now
Well you can make a pacemaker blink, yeah, easy thing
Make a man's heart go bibbity-bom bippity-bom bippity-bom
Like a gentle drum
And knowing you it ain't ever done

So go on, go on, go on, darling, go on
Yeah go on, go on darling, go on, go on

Yeah, the secretaries and typewriters chattering away
Chatter-chatter-chatter-chatter
Chatter-chatter-chatter, chatter away
It ought to make you sick when you hear a woman cry
When she don't get just whatever she wants
But not my woman, she just keeps on keeping on,
That's my woman, my woman
That moving on shuffle side to side
That sure can turn me on

Dirty ass rock'n'roll
Dirty ass rock'n'roll
Dirty ass rock'n'roll
Dirty ass rock'n'roll

Hey now, hey now, hey now, hey now
And the beach is a thing and the bees don't sting
Like complaining from a downtown whore
I got my plasma patches and my hypodermic in hermetically sealed kid gloves
Yeah tell me
Tell me tell me tell me tell me
Tell me
Tell me tell me tell me tell me

Dirty ass rock'n'roll
Dirty ass rock'n'roll
Dirty ass rock'n'roll
Dirty ass rock'n'roll