Category: Visual Arts

There’s a monkey in the jungle watching a vapor trail, caught up in the conflict between its brain and its tail. And if it’s Sunday
Comics, then we got nothing to lose! Please repeat the message: It’s the comix that we choose

And she was lying in the grass. And she could hear the highway breathing. And she would read the Sunday Comics; she’s making sure she is not dreaming.

The bats have left the bell tower, the Comics have been read.
Spend Sundays in the black box:
Bela Lugosi’s dead.

No one in the world ever gets what they want, and that is beautiful; everybody dies reading Sunday Comics, and that is beautiful. They want what they’re not and I wish they would stop saying, “Deputy Dawg dog a ding ding debadeba.”

I don’t know where he lives; or if he knows to sail; or if little schemes like this one ever cross his trail. I don’t believe he’s reading Sunday Comics, you know…So I shudder in my lampshade.

Train my brain to work the way you want me to. Don’t question authority, see, don’t read Sunday Comics that disagree with you. You are strapped with a double standard clamp, in a battle you won’t win; and when it’s over, we’re gonna dance your memory away

You keep your distance with your Sunday Comics and gentle persuasion. I’m lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Oh, you’re wasting my time…You’re just, just, just wasting time.

The four kings of emi are sitting stately on the floor; there are birds out on the sidewalk and a valet at the door. He reminds me of a penguin with few and plastered hair, there’s Sunday Comics on the letter and the birthday boy is there.

Spark a new-born, blue blood, royal baby cry/Til her face turns red, til the brain has bled/Sunday Comics, worms are fed/And the headline said The Queen is dead (The Queen is dead) The Queen is dead (The Queen is dead) The Queen is dead

The notes’ll flow, yo, for the words I speak, rap is weak so I teach and I reach a positive vibe. A way of life is how I’m livin’, so get hype to the rhythm! Sunday ‘Mix is the crew, ya hear, yeah, designed a rhyme I just won’t fear. Back to react, enough is enough; let me ask you a question: what time is love?