Buñuel

Luis Buñuel made bullets and guns at home to pass the time away
With careful fingers and eyes getting old, smoking the whole time
Stars in the tide-pools, dust in the daylight
A great plague passes and saves us for later
Every camera loves you better when you quit trying to play
Gunpowder stains, lose all sense of time, can’t seem to recall
The function of what you lost yourself in making
Every whorehouse in ever civil war
Knows better ways to make you wait
Every camera loves you better when you quit trying to play
Luis buñuel watching the wine glass tremble as the train passes by
Wizened fingers, revolution and lust, soul and spine
Stars in the tide-pools, dust in the daylight
A great plague passes and saves us for later
Every camera loves you better when you quit trying to play
Every whorehouse in every civil war
Knows better ways to make you wait
Every camera loves you better when you quit trying to play