Queer

Is the story of the depravity of the beat generation true? Daisy and Lily, lazy and silly Walk by the shore of the warm, grassy sea Talking once more neath a swan-bosomed tree Rose castles fourelles, those bustles where swells Each foam bell of ermine they roam and determine What fashions have been and what fashions will be What tartan leaves born what crinolines worn Yeah Queer, Queer Queer, Queer By green (thefis) pelisses or farlahine blue Like the thin plaided leaves that castle crags grew Or velours d'afrande on the water gods' land Her hair seemed gold trees on the honey cell sand When the thickest gold spangles on Deep water seen were like twanging guitar And like cold mandoline and the nymphs of great caves With hair like gold waves of Venus wore (Farta) fine Yeah Queer, Queer Queer, Queer Wild fire passion and impossible temper The nymph tagliongrisi the ondine wear Plaided Victoria and thin clementine Like the crinolined waterfalls nymphs wear beneath shawls Elegant parasols floating are seen The amazons wear balzarine blue