Let me wipe the dirt off of your pearls
And sing you this song while you kink up your curls
And you can lecture me about the rain in Leimert Park last Tuesday
In Comicbookland
I can hold your flag while you find your keys
And whisper your list of insecurities
And I can lie and say I understand your complex situation
In Comicbookland
Tap these hollow books the titles the titles wave
To me with my nose pressed up to the window of culture cave
At the bottom of Berlin I learned to screen my sins
By listening to Paul Hindemith in Comicbookland
Let me wipe the dirt off of your pearls
And sing you this song while you kink up your curls
And you can lecture me about the rain in Leimert Park last Tuesday
In Comicbookland
Help me set the scene in your frozen lair
Tell me again what constitutes good hair
And tell me how the guns and buns unbraided your deep dread of reason
In Comicbookland
All those tears behind your tidal wave
Do you ever tire of the tightrope wire dance over Melrose Place
At the bottom of Berlin I learned to screen my sins
By listening to Paul Hindemith in Comicbookland
Decorate the cage in which you dance
Your trinkets and art grant mystic Sufic trance
Sleeping on the couch that seats a thousand reasons why you won't leave
Comicbookland