Or Thousands of Prices

There may be richness and purity
Stillness, obscenity this Tuesday night
Hmm, in a touch of openness, carelessness, vulgarity, even spite

And his boots lay on the carpet, beside his socks
And her blouse was on the bedpost, the drink is on the rocks

The hick's perspiration, imagination, insinuation, salvation and moonlight
As their eyes met almost cautiously, carefully, caressingly as if they might

In her hands, she holds the object, of her desire
Through his fingers run the cradle, of our civilization

It's such promises of senselessness, emotionless, defensiveness the two awoke
For this sound of lawns mowing, trees mowing, he's knowing
She's going and they never spoke

He takes the ribbon from her hair, and makes a knot
She reaches for her purse and then she stops

Intellectually, this economy is under their advisement
It's just real sweat and not some TV sets
The owner of the advertisements, don't abuse it

It's all in your head
Things like burning brick
And that big red freshness
Or deviling your pleasures

Or thousands of prices
Or thousands of prices
Or thousands of prices