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White moon, white moon 
Breaks open the tomb 
Of a deserted cartoon that I wrote 
Creature come, creature creature 
My own double feature 
As I'm warming the bleachers at home 
Well, my nose keeps on bleeding 
Cause it's Rita I'm needing 
I better call out a meeting of the boys 
Of the boys... 

My friends are all dying 
And death can't be lying 
It's the truth, and it don't make a noise 

Oh Rita, oh Rita 
If you lived in Mesita 
I would move you with the beat of a drum 
And this picture is proof 
That although you're aloof 
You had the shiniest tooth 'neath the sun 

Easy come, easy go 
Be a star of the show 
I'm giving up all I know to get more 
To get more... 

Photograph the picture 
Young grunt pin-up scripture 
For locker-tagged memories of war 

A mirage, this garage 
And a photo montage 
And a finger massage from the host 

Good lord, good lord 
The one I adore 
And I cannot afford is a ghost 
Is a ghost... 

Proto.... is the word 
And the word is the bird 
That flew through the herd in the snow 
In the snow... 

Lemonade me, then grade me 
Then deliver my baby 
And if my friends all persuade me, i'll go 

Blink blink at me Rita 
Don't you know I'm a bleeder? 
And I promised I wouldn't lead her on 

But she met me, then led me 
And I ate what was fed me 
Till I purged every word in this song