White Moon

White moon, white moon
 Breaks open the tomb
 Of a deserted cartoon that I wrote
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 Creature come, creature, creature
 My own double feature
 As I'm warming the bleachers at home
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 Well, my nose keeps on bleeding
 'Cause it's rita I'm needing
 I better call out a meeting of the boys
 Of the boys
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 My friends are all dying
 And death can't be lying
 It's the truth and it don't make a noise
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 Oh Rita, oh Rita
 If you lived in mesita
 I would move you with the beat of a drum
 And this picture is proof
 That although you're aloof
 You had the shiniest tooth 'neath the sun
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 Easy come, easy go
 Be a star of the show
 I'm giving up all I know to get more
 To get more
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 Photograph the picture
 Young grunt pin-up scripture
 For locker-tagged memories of war
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 A mirage, this garage
 And a photo montage
 And a finger massage from the host
 Good lord, good lord
 The one I adore
 And I cannot afford is a ghost
 Is a ghost
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 Proto-social is the word
 And the word is the bird
 That flew through the herd in the snow
 In the snow
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 Lemonade me, then grade me
 Then deliver my baby
 And if my friends all persuade me, I'll go
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 Blink, blink at me Rita
 Don't you know I'm a bleeder
 And I promised I wouldn't lead her on
 But she met me, then led me
 And I ate what was fed me
 'Til I purged every word in this song