"The Naked Lunch."

I found this in an old email to Pricey and thought of you.

         You remember Lydia Lunch don't you.
         When you were a teenager and you snuck furtive looks at the cover of the Queen of Siam in Our Price. 
         It defined a type for you for the next twenty years. 
         Not-gorgeous but voluptuous sulky punkoid girls lounging in the swamp among the lily pads.
         You wished you could afford to buy it and only look at the cover with moonstruck eyes.
         But it wasn't worth it. 
         You already knew by then that the record would be mortal unkind to the human ear; you had the Foetus retrospective double LP and you knew how bad music associated with these people could get, but the cover was all right.
         I suppose that when I say "you" here I actually, strictly, mean "me". 
 
                                                       

 
                                                  CAPTION: Oh Lydia, oh Lydia, say, have you met Lydia?
                                                                    Lydia the Tattooed Lady.
                                                                    She has eyes that folks adore so,
                                                                    And a torso even more so.
                                                                    Lydia, oh Lydia, that encyclo-pidia.
                                                                    Oh Lydia The Queen of Tattoo.
                                                                    On her back is The Battle of Waterloo.
                                                                    Beside it, The Wreck of the Hesperus too.
                                                                    And proudly above waves the red, white, and blue.
                                                                    You can learn a lot from Lydia! 
 
                             NEXT VERSE:   Oh Lydia, oh Lydia, say, would you fuck Lydia?
                                                         Lydia the small-time no-wave temptress.
                                                         She's a volptuous goth-type,
                                                         She's fucked Julian Cope and Thurston Moore.
                                                         Nick Cave and probably that spotty tool Lee Ranaldo. 
                                                         ("No, she just gave me a five-quid hand-job" 
                                                                                                                         – LEE RANALDO)
                                                         Lydia oh Lydia she's 
                                                         Not as good looking as Chloe Vevrier
                                                         But after all, who is? 
                                                         Lydia, oh Lydia, that encyclo-pidia.
                                                         Of sulky teenager grotesque exaggerations.
                                                         On her back is one of those familiar tattoos
                                                         That a good 70% of the females aged 17–55 now have.
                                                         You can learn a lot from Lydia!