Ears well-sucked

Underblanket of the soul,
the old, old soul,
full of fluff and dustmites,
patched and ragged,
but warm

Underblanket of the soul
the skin
the veins

Security blanket with a teddy-bear head,
ears well-sucked. You need a busload of faith, said Lou Reed

Several truckloads, Lou,
rolling into your town,
rolling into my town,
rolling down the highway, the scab of a highway,
stereos pumping,
blasting past the silence

Power tools grinding, sanding
the layers, sucking
the fat, finding
the arteries, exposing
the nerves, growing
the dendrites, extending
the tendrils, culturing
new organs, nurturing
new skin,
bandaging, sheeting, blanketing, wheeling,
truckin’ on down to my town

blasting across the South Sea to my town
A Lear jet, a rocket
ship, a cruise
landing on my nose, putting out my eyes
shredding my eardrums and ripping out my tongue

warm and cosy and blind and dumb