OK, boys and girls, ready or not, it's time for more Babelfishing poetry, where I take song lyrics, run them through an on-line translator such as (but not necessarily) Babelfish, experiment with the punctuation a bit, and wind up with a quirky kind of poem.
This week's featured song, from power-popsters The Smithereens, is "Behind The Wall Of Sleep" (watch video here). Enjoy.
Like Snakes, They Know
But again, saying it's like hair in 1965, William Shrimpton.
I will never believe that the true face of his illness
turned back to the middle.
It's always cold and always
Japanese black charcoal colour of garments.
When I am in the room and said to kill Chongag,
I'm glad it's limited.
Bass string instrument, and
always, the only party.
Current and maximum powder.
Do you want his good friends? Then I will
find the Tao.
Like snakes, they know.
Definitely have his friends dance.
Only Denmark, the city of life.
That wine. On your phone.
Colleagues around the house.
Now, as the first.
If you dapeg me.
If you know the pottery is very near
to them, you know, like a snake.
Now I am in bed; it's a lie.
Sometimes they cry.
Then it will go back to bed.
Wall bed was the apparent from exciting news;
walls in the news.