Chord & lyrics
The Fish Poison Con chords and lyrics - WILLIAM S. BURROUGHS
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[Verse 1] I was traveling [D]with Merritt [G]In corporated, [D]checking store attendants for lar[F]ceny with a crew [Eb]of shoppers. [E]There was two middle -aged gunts, one owning this [D]chihuahua, which whimpered [C]an d yacked [B]in a cocoon [C#]of black sweaters, [E]and Bob Schaefer, crew leader, who was an American fascist with Roosevelt jokes. [D]It happens in Iowa, this [D]number comes over the car [E]radio. [C#]Old Sal got caught in the fence last [D]spring. and Schaefer [E]said, oh my god, are we ever [D]in [E]Hicksville? [B]Stopped that night in Pleasantville, [D]Iowa, and our [E]tires gave [D]out. We had no [C]tire rations during the [B]war for such a purpose, and Bob got drunk and [D]showed his badge [C#]to the locals in a roadhouse by the river, [D]an d I ran into the sailor under a [E]potted palm in the lobby. We [D]hit the local croakers with a fish [E]poison con. I got these poisoned [C#]fish stuck in the tank, transported back from South America, [E]I'm an ichthyologist, and after being stung by the dreaded candiru, [E]like fire thr[C#]ough the blood, doctor, and coming on [E]now. And the [C#]sailor goes into his white -hot agony act, chasing the doctor around his office like a blow[E]torch. [D]He never missed, [B]but he burned down the croakers. [D]So like [E]Bob and me, [D]when we had a catch, as the old cunts call it, [E]and arrested [C#]some sulky clerk with his hand [B]deep in the company [D]pocket. We take turns playing the tough [F#m]cop and the [D]calm cop. So I walk in on this Pleasantville croak[F#m]er and tell him [D]I have contac[E]ted this Venus[D]ian virus and subject to dissolve myself in poison juices and [C#]assimilate the passer's by unless [C]I get my [C#]medicine and get it regular. So I walk [C#]in on this old party smelling like a compost [C]heap and steaming demurely, [Eb]an d[B] he snaps at me. What's your trouble, young man? [Eb]The Venusian goop [C]brought doctor. [D]Now see here, young man, my time is valuable. Doctor? This is a medical emergency. Old shit, but good. [B]I worked [D]out on the nod. All he had was [Eb]one fixator. [C]You're loa[C#]ded. You assimilated the croaker. left me sick. [D]Yes, he was old and[C] tough, [D]but not too tough for the caustic enzymes of woo. The sale was thin and the drug stores was closing, so I didn't want him to get physical and disturb my medications. The next croaker rode with the [C#]erogenous acid vats on one side and Nagasaki [Eb]ovens on the other. [D]We knotted out [C#]under the rubber [C]trees with a long red carpet under our feet [B]back to 1910. [E]We could buy it in the drugstore tomorrow, [D]or lay[Eb] up in the chink [B]laundry on the black smoke, [D]drifting back through [C#]stale, roaming house, flesh, pool [C]halls, and chilly [B]houses. [E]Fell back [D]in sad flesh, small and pretentious in a theatrical [Eb]boarding house, the aging ham [C#]cradles his tie [B]-up and stabs a vein like Cleo[D]patra applying the asps. Click back through the [D#]cool gray [D]short -change artist's lush rolling ghost of drunk[C#]en sleep, [D]empty pock[C#]ets in the worn [C]metal subway [D]dome. I woke up in the hotel [E]lobby, the smell heavy and calm, hold[D]ing a different body molded to the leather [D]chair. [C#]I was [D]sick but not needlesick. This was black smoke The sailor, still sleeping, [D]he looked very young under a wispy moustache. I woke him up and he looked around with slow hy[D]draulic [B]control, his [C#]eyes unbluffed, [C]unreadable. [D]Let's make the street, I'm thin. I was in fact very thin, as I saw, when I stopped in front of a mirror panel and adjusted my tie [C#]knot in a [D]starched collar. It was a neighborhood of chilly houses and cheap saloons [C#]with free lunch everywhere and [C]heavy calm [B]bartenders humming Sweet [D]Sixteen. I walked without [B]thinking like a horse will and came to the [D]Chinese laundry [Db]by Clara's massage par[D]lor. We siphoned in and the chink in front [C#]jerked one eye back and went on [C]ironing a shirt front. [D]We walked through a door and curtain and the [C]black smoke [B]set our lungs dancing a junkie jig. We lay up on our junk hip [D]while a Chinese kid cooked our pills and handed us the pipe. After six pipes we smoke slow and order [C#]a pot of tea. The chink kid [C]goes out to fix [B]it and the words hatch in my throat like already written there. I was reading them back. Lip [A#]reading we call it in the trade. [B]Only way to [D]orient yourself when in Rome. I've checked the harness [D#]pole. He comes in Maxolies every night at 2 .20 [C#]a .m. and forces the local [B]pederast to perform this unnatural act on his person. [C#]So regularly you can set [D]your watch by it. I won't, I won't, I [D]won't. Not again. Glub, glub, glub. So that gives us 20 minutes at least to [E]get in and out [C#]through the side win[D]dow. In eight hours start we should [C#]be in St. Louis before they missed the time. Stop off and see the [D]family. Memory pictures coming in. [C#]Little boy [C]blue and all the heavy silver [C#]set s and banks [D]an d clubs. Cool, heavy [C#]eyes, moving [C]steel and [B]oil and shares. [Eb]I had a ri[C]ch St. Louis family. It was set for that night. As we walked out, I caught the Japanese girl picking up laundry, and my flesh [C#]crawled under [B]of the junk and I made a meat for her over the afternoon. [D]Good plan to make [C#]sex before a caper. [Eb]Housebreaking can cause [D]this wet dream sex tension, espe[B]cially when things go wrong. Once in Peoria, me and the [Eb]sailor charged a drug store. And we can't find the Jimmy for the narco cabinet, and the flash [D]won't work, and the harness bolts sniffing around the door. And there we are with a sex car [D]and giggling ourselves off like beached idiots. Well, the cops got such [C#]nasty kicks from our condition, they took us to [D]the R .R. station. We get on a train, shivering, burning, junk sick. And the warm vegetable smells of thawing flesh and stale [D]cum slowly filled the car. Nobody could look at us, [D]steaming away there like manure piles. I woke out of a light yen sleep when the Japanese girl came in. Three silver digits exploded in my head. I walked out into streets of Madrid and won a football pool. Felt the Latin mind clear in veinless sunlight. Met Paco by the soccer scores and he said, ¿Qué tal, Enrique?
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18%
32 BPM